


How Do I Feel, Knowing It's You And Me

by Creepyjacobisbad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambigous/open ending, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bisexual Ron, Boundaries are established so there’s a hold on the cuddles, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Fourth Year AU, Goblet of Fire AU, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, POV Alternating, Protective Draco Malfoy, Technically consent issues bc a love spell is at play, bro Ron Weasley, draco gets spelled, endless cuddles, hermione is tired, on Harry's side at least, pansy being the good kinda bitch, technically, there will be a sequel so think of the ending as more of a breather than an ending. I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 05:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20420543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creepyjacobisbad/pseuds/Creepyjacobisbad
Summary: Harry pulled out his school robes and shot Malfoy a suspicious look.“You’re not gonna peek on me while I’m changing, right?”Malfoy giggled, then wiggled his eyebrows. “Not unless there’s something you think I’d like to see.”“Bastard.” Harry muttered, closing the curtain on the bed. “I mean it, no peeking.”“Please, Potter.” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I think I understand basic consent.”Harry almost cried.takes place right before the first task uwu  enjoy some love spell shenanigans and a lil bit of angstCan’t read the title to my own damn fic without screaming ‘KNOWING ME KNOW YOU UHUUUUUH’ cause I’m a loser who likes abba





	1. What Could Go Wrong?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: it's short and shitty lol but I promise i upped the quality later on.
> 
> at least I hope i did lmao

Harry was tired. 

Really, really tired.

He was stressed out of his mind thanks to this damned tournament, Ron kept shooting him dirty looks, and if one more Slytherin asked him how often he cried over his mother, he was killing himself.

For real, he was gonna do it. 

Hence the invisibility cloak on his walk to Hogsmeade, as he didn’t necessarily want to die before he’d had his first kiss, or escaped his aunt and uncle for good.

Hermione was huffing and puffing about the whole thing, but she’d been doing that for awhile now, so he’d learned to tune it out.

“I feel like a fool.” she growled as they trudged through the snow. “A sad fool with no friends who has to go to Hogsmeade on her  _ own _ .”

“Ah, but none of that is true.” Harry smiled sweetly beneath his cloak. “You  _ do  _ have friends, and you  _ aren’t  _ alone.”

“Ha,” she scoffed. “I might as well be. Just take off the damn cloak before I  _ really _ look like I’ve gone mad.”

Harry’s expression soured, and he kicked at a small pile of snow. “No.”

Hermione groaned loudly. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being sensible.” he countered. “This may be my last trip to Hogsmeade, and I won’t spoil it by getting mocked by assholes.”

Hermione muttered under her breath, but didn’t openly protest any further.

Harry was glad. He was determined to have a nice day, and he wouldn’t have anything ruining it.

They walked up and down the main street, dipping into shops; both to escape the cold and to fawn over their contents. 

Whenever Harry saw something he liked he’d tug at Hermione’s cloak until, with a huff, she’d pick it up and buy it for him.

“It’s like shopping with a child.” she hissed, passing him a licorice wand. 

Harry didn’t respond, he just chewed on it happily. 

They exited the store, and Hermione shivered. “Blast, it’s cold.”

Harry rubbed his arms and nodded. Then, remembering she couldn’t actually  _ see  _ him do that, hummed his agreement. 

Hermione stamped her boots into the light powder littering the streets and puffed out her cheeks.

“What shall we do now?” she asked. “Not much to do by myself. Alone. Without my friends.” 

Harry kicked her lightly. “You’re not changing my mind.”

“Why?” she pouted. “I came here to hang with my  _ friend, Harry.  _ Not his floating voice.”

“ _ That’s  _ why.” Harry jerked his head in the direction of the Three Broomsticks, where Rita Skeeter herself was just leaving.

Hermione didn’t see his action, but  _ did _ see the reporter, evident by her frown.

“Blast.” she muttered.

The sharp nailed blonde was heading right for them. Hermione stepped to avoid her, but Harry wasn’t fast enough. 

Stumbling on nothing was enough to draw Rita’s attention to her surroundings, and she gave Hermione an oily smile. 

“Why, if it isn’t the future Mrs. Potter!” she purred in a way that had the hair on Harry’s neck standing up.

Hermione leered at the woman. “That was some ripe nonsense, your article. Harry and I are nothing more than friends, and have no intentions of becoming anything else.”

Harry nodded, puffing out his chest. He liked Cho, not Hermione.

“Oh, my mistake dear.” Rita put a hand to her sleek, vomit green coat. “I’ll make sure to say that next time. ‘Harry Potter, Too Good for His Muggle-born Friend-”

Well, if that didn’t just piss him right off.

Before he could really even think his boot was flying into Rita’s shin.

She squawked, but it was more triumphant than it had any right to be. 

“Ha, so he is here!” Rita reached out blindly, but with far more accuracy than Harry was comfortable with.

He tried to back away, but he thumped against the wooden wall of the shop behind him. 

“Gotcha!” Rita’s claws closed down on the cloak and yanked.

Hermione shouted at her, trying to get her to stop, but the damage was done.

“Harry Potter.” she smirked proudly. “Care to comment?”

Unthinking, Harry pulled the cloak from her hands and bolted. 

“Harry!” both women called for him, but he was gone.

His feet pounded against the snowy cobblestone, no destination in mind, just the urge to  _ not  _ be questioned by Rita guiding him.

Unfortunately, that meant he wasn’t really paying attention to what was around him, leading to him smacking right onto another unwelcome face. 

He thudded to the ground, and, to his utter distaste, looked up to see the sneering face of Draco Malfoy.

His sneer easily melted into a cocky grin, and he leaned down to get right in Harry’s face.

“Looking a little red, Potter. Hope you haven’t been crying.” his pale eyes shone bright with malicious glee.

“Stuff it, Malfoy.” Harry snapped, getting up. To Harry’s delight, he had just the slightest height advantage on Malfoy; maybe a centimeter or two. 

“What awful manners.” Malfoy tutted. “No wonder people like Cedric more.”

Growling, Harry pulled out his wand. “Sod off, Malfoy-”

“Hey, now!” a door beside them swung open, revealing the stern face of a young woman. “What’s this all about? Why are you fighting behind my shop?”

Harry’s arm snapped to his side, anger still swirling in his chest. “My apologies, ma’am. We’ll be leaving.”

“Now, I didn’t say that.” She stepped back and waved her hand. “Come in, and tell me what this is all about.”

Malfoy and Harry exchanged eye contact. Harry had to fight hard to resist the urge to run again, but Malfoy was stepping into the shop, and it felt like losing to just leave.

So, he followed.

It was a small store, one crammed in between two much bigger establishments. It was crowded with shelves, which were crowded with bottles. Plants hung from the ceiling, which was low already. Harry found himself ducking to avoid the leafy tendrils.

The woman unceremoniously dumped books and empty bottles off two stools, and set them in front of the counter.

“Sit.” she commanded, and they did. 

The stools were too low, leaving Harry feeling ridiculous as his eyes barely made it over the edge of the counter. But, at least he could see more than Malfoy, he reflected with a small smile.

“So,” the woman stretched back. “Why the fight?”

“He ran into me.” Malfoy blurted before Harry could even form a thought. “When I was just minding my own business. And then he tried to hex me.”

“After you brought up that goddamn article!” Harry snapped. “It’s such obvious bullshit, but you keep shoving it in my face.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure it’s not genuine. You seem the type to cry over nothing.” Malfoy crossed his arms and turned his head. 

“First things first, I do  _ not,  _ and secondly, I think my parents being bloody  _ murdered  _ isn’t nothing.” Harry leaned towards him, practically spitting.

The woman rubbed her chin thoughtfully as they had their row, and then stood up abruptly. 

“You, here.” she snapped her fingers at Malfoy.

“What?” he wrinkled his brow.

“Come on, we don’t have all day.” she snapped some more.

Hesitantly, and with a hint of fear that Harry relished, he stood and moved slightly closer to her. 

Without warning she grabbed his face in her hand and yanked him even closer.

Malfoy cried out, and Harry found himself jumping to his feet.

The woman let her hand bump along the messy countertop, until it stopped at a pair of glasses.

She slipped them on, and then held Malfoy’s face in both her hands. 

His already pale face paled even more, and he wriggled in her grip.

“Relax, I just need to check-” she stuck her tongue out and hummed thoughtfully. “How long have you two been fighting?”

“What?” Harry took a small step back.

“How long have you been fighting?” she asked again.

“Uh, since the first day of our first year?”

“Which was…?” she prompted.

“Like, four years ago.”

She made a noise at that, and both boys flinched. 

“Ah, yes. I see now.” she let go of Malfoy’s face, and he speedily backed away. “One moment.”

“What are you doing?” Malfoy struggled to regain his composure. “Do you know who I am? What my father can do to you?”

“Offer you up to Voldemort?” Harry muttered under his breath, and Malfoy turned on him. 

“Watch your tongue, Potter-”

“Here it is.” the woman was in front of the counter before they even knew what was going on. She held a thin vial in front of Draco’s nose and snapped it in half. The pink gas inside it flew out and shot right up his nose.

Draco choked, grabbing his throat, before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed into her arms.

“Hey!” Harry cried, unsure of what to do. “What- what just happened?”

“Relax, he’s not hurt.” she propped him up against her. “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. You just have to say it and mean it.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Harry’s pitch began to rise. “What did you  _ do _ ?”

She looked at him, and her eyes twinkled with a kindness that surprised him. “It’s going to be okay.”

He gulped, but found himself trusting her.

“Here, take him.” she let Malfoy fall, making Harry rush to catch him. “He should wake up soon.”

“You can’t just leave us like this-” but she was already escorting him outside. 

She opened the door and dumped them out. “Goodbye, mister Potter.”

“Wait-!” but the door slammed shut and, with a pop, the shop disappeared. 

Hoisting a limp Malfoy in his arms, Harry desperately tried to figure out what had just happened.

“Fuck.” he whispered quietly. “I need Hermione.”

Hermione was in the Three Broomsticks, drinking butterbeer, pouring over her SPEW notes, and fuming.

When she caught sight of her friend, the fury in his eyes had him stumbling.

“Where have you been? She hissed.

His hair was disheveled, more so than usual, and for some reason that was absolutely lost on her, he was half covered in the cloak. 

“Uh, ‘Mione.” his voice wavered with uncertainty. “We have a problem.”

“And what would that be?” she leaned back, disinterested. “You stutter around Cho again? Get made fun of?”

“Worse than that.” his green eyes darted around, making sure no one was watching. Somehow, that was the case. Even when he was looking as odd as he was, he was no match for the patrons interest in their warm drinks.

“Well? Out with it.” Hermione was determined to remain indifferent until he gave her a good reason to not be.

He pulled back the cloak.

Okay, that was a pretty damn good reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like my bullshit love spell stunt owo?


	2. This, I Guess

Harry was panicking.   
Honest to god panicking.   
Because, attached to his side, beneath the invisibility cloak with him, was Draco fucking Malfoy.  
Who was clinging to his side. Nuzzling him.  
His chest was tight, his breathing was shallow, and he was pretty sure his vision was starting to dim.  
How. How was this happening? What had that witch done?  
Hermione had no idea, which was just making his panic worse.  
Malfoy cooed, and Harry almost choked to death.  
“Harry?” he asked gently, and Harry was just absolutely losing his mind at how soft his voice sounded. “Could we get some butter beer? Seems a waste to come in here and not get some.”  
“Uh, not. Not now, Malfoy.” Harry suttered.  
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.   
Malfoy pouted. “Are you sure? I can pay. I can even get some more for Granger.”  
Hermione stiffened upon hearing her name.  
“This is weird.” she whispered.  
“No shit.” Harry hissed, doing his best to remain still.   
“It’s not that weird.” Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t mind paying for my friends.”  
That’s it. Harry wasn’t breathing anymore.  
Malfoy rolled his eyes playfully and tucked his head under Harry’s chin. “Don’t act so surprised. I have the money, why not spend it?”  
Harry squeaked.  
He could see Ron across the bar, recognizing him only by his fiery hair, and was forever grateful he wasn’t able to see what was going on.  
He was especially grateful that Fred and George couldn’t see him, either. He didn’t think he could live with that. If they knew what was happening… the blackmail this could provide them...  
He let his eyes scan the rest of the room, eager for anything to distract him from the hair brushing against his chin, and blinked when Hagrid seemed to appear out of nowhere.   
Looking closer, he realized his tall friend had been crouched to talk to Moody, who was sipping from his hip flask. He’d said it was to protect himself from poison that others might have slipped in food he hadn’t personally prepared but, Harry thought dimly as Malfoy scooted closer, you could never really be safe from attack.  
Both men stood to leave, but Moody paused suddenly. After a light tap to Hagrid’s back, they made their way to Hermione’s table.  
Harry pressed himself against his chair, and Mafloy frowned.   
“Don’t like him.” he muttered quietly before burying his face farther into Harry’s neck.  
“How’s your day going, Hermione?” Hagrid asked loudly, and though she winced at the volume, she smiled back pleasantly.  
“Just fine, Hagrid. I’m enjoying some alone time, working on my SPEW project.”  
Moody bent down, as if to read her notes, then whispered to Harry “Nice cloak.”  
Harry fought back another choking attack.  
“You- you can-?”  
“Magic eye, Potter.” Moody smiled, and it did nothing for his features. “Has helped many a time.”  
Harry swallowed and nodded. “Ah. Makes sense.”  
“Your little friend there doesn’t.” Moody frowned lightly. “What’s with that?”  
Malfoy grumbled low in his throat.  
“Nevermind him.” Harry waved the other boy off, ignoring the way his breath tickled his skin.  
Hagrid was leaning down now too, and whispered to Harry in a voice so quiet he wasn’t sure it was actually Hagrid’s.   
“Meet me at midnight at the cabin. Bring the cloak.”  
What? Why would he need to do that?  
But Hagrid said no more, he just straightened up and beamed at Hermione again.   
“Nice seeing you, ‘Mione. Talk to you later.”  
“Bye, Hagrid.” she waved pleasantly, and the men stomped off into the crowd.  
“Why does he want to meet me at midnight?” Harry wondered aloud.  
“Probably so he can feed you to some murderous bird he owns, or something.” Malfoy pulled away slightly and frowned at where the men had been. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him.”  
Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Malfoy. Hagrid’s my friend, he would never hurt me.”  
“It is odd, though.” Hermione hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder-”  
She was interrupted by a tiny sob.  
Eyes wide, Harry looked down at Malfoy to find tears gliding down his face.  
“Wha- Malfoy! Stop crying!” Harry exclaimed.  
“He’s crying?” Hermione leaned over the table. “Why?”  
“I’m- I’m s-s-sorry-” Malfoy hiccuped. “I did-didn’t mean to insu-ult your friend.”  
Harry gaped at him.   
“Hermione, what- what do I do?”  
“Don’t look at me.” she threw her arms wide. “I don’t know!”  
“But you’re supposed to know the feelings things!” Harry’s voice cracked.  
“I didn’t even know he had feelings other than anger and evil joy!” Hermione twirled her feather between her fingers. “Do we comfort him?”  
“I’ll try it?” Harry didn’t know what else to do.   
Raising a shaking hand, he put it on Malfoy’s arched, trembling back. “Now, now. No- no need to cry.”  
“But he’s your friend!” Malfoy wailed, drawing attention. “I know he is, and I still said that! Why am I so stupid?”  
He pulled back abruptly and slapped himself in the face.  
“Hey!” Harry jumped back. “What-”  
He kept doing it, and with a sick weight in his gut, Harry was reminded of when Dobby would do it whenever he ‘misbehaved’.   
Harry wrapped his hands around Malfoy’s slender wrists and held them firmly.   
“Malfoy, enough. It’s okay. I’m not mad.”  
Red rimmed eyes looked up at him. “Promise?”  
Harry nodded. “Promise.”  
A lightness seemed to settle over the blond, and he relaxed back into Harry’s side. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”  
Harry’s head was spinning from the mood change, but decided not to question it.   
“So, uh,” he waited for Malfoy to get comfortable. “What do you think this meeting is about?”  
Hermione shrugged helplessly. “I honestly couldn’t say. My main concern is if it interrupts your meeting with-” her hand slapped over her mouth.  
Harry tensed, eyes flitting down to Malfoy. Thankfully, he was very distracted tracing lines up and down Harry’s hand.  
“Which one’s for love…” Harry heard Malfoy ask quietly, examining his palm.  
Confident he wasn’t listening, Harry turned back to Hermione.   
“I’ll just make it quick.”  
Hermione made a face. “You really think you can make a Hagrid meeting quick?”  
“I can try?” he offered.  
“I guess there’s nothing else to do.” Hermione closed her notebook. “But, what do we do about Malfoy?”  
Malfoy looked up when he heard his name, fond smile on his face as he looked at Harry.  
“You sure we can’t get butterbeer?” he tried again. “I really want some.”  
“No, not today.” Harry rubbed his head. “I think we should just- go back to school. Maybe see Snape.”  
Malfoy brightened. “Snape’s my favourite teacher! He’s so nice to me.”  
Harry grimaced. “I’m sure.”  
“Do you not like him?” distress etched itself into his features.  
“Uh, not really. He’s kind of a dick to me.” Harry said thoughtlessly.   
Malfoy made a face, and for a second Harry was afraid he was going to start crying again.   
To his surprise, a familiar rage overcame him instead.  
Well, Malfoy being nice to him was weird while it lasted. He braced himself for the fight brewing inside of the boy… still clinging to his arm?  
“How… dare he.” Malfoy snarled, eyes hard. “How dare he mistreat you? I’ll have him fired at once.”  
While Harry was by no means against the idea, it was extremely unsettling hearing it coming from Malfoy.  
“Uh, that’s okay.” Harry assured him. “It’s not- he’s not that bad.”  
Hermione made a disagreeing noise, but Harry didn’t know what else to say.  
He couldn’t exactly just let Snape’s star pupil fly into a rage just because Harry didn’t like him.  
Could he?  
Huh. What would happen if he did…  
“Harry, focus.” Hermione snapped her fingers to get his attention. “We can’t just- leave him like this. Can we?”  
“Well, I’m not exactly eager to waltz up to Snape and say ‘hi, you know Malfoy? Draco Malfoy, kid with a big important family and spite for days? He;s apparently my new sweater. Fix that please?” Harry rubbed his head wearily. “The second Malfoy snaps out of this he’s going to set me on fire, and Snape will laugh as I burn.”  
“So we’re supposed to just- let him wander around like this?”  
“...yes?”  
Hermione let her head thud against the table. “This is a disaster.”  
“Just- just look for a cure. We can solve this on our own.”  
“I’m good at magic, not a damn expert!” her voice cracked with hysteria. “I can’t do this!”  
“Against all the other stuff you’ve done, breaking some- weird kinda love spell should be easy!” Harry’s arm was starting to fall asleep. “Let’s just- give this a few days to wear off.”  
“Brilliant plan. Just- superb.” Hermione dragged her hands down her face.  
“Do you have anything better?”  
“Yes! Tell Snape!”  
“I’m not talking to him anymore.” Malfoy announced. “Until he apologizes for being mean to you, he’s dead to me.”  
“Great.” Hermione deadpanned.  
Harry scowled at her, though she couldn’t see it. “Look, we have enough going on today. So let’s just leave this alone for now, okay?”  
“Fine.” she stood up. “But don’t expect my help.”  
“Of course I expect your help, why wouldn’t I expect your help?”  
Hermione walked away.   
“Hermione? Hermione!”   
Now everyone was really looking at the supposedly empty table.   
With a sigh, Harry stood up.  
“Come on, Malfoy. Let’s go back to Hogwarts.”  
Malfoy stood, intertwining their hands. “Alright. But must we where this cloak the whole way? I want people to see us, so they know all teasing of you is to be stopped at once.”  
Harry didn’t say anything to that. He just dragged his arch nemesis out of the bar by his hand, trying hard to ignore the doting smile on his face.

“I need to go to bed, Malfoy. You can’t come with me.”  
Those words had been swirling in Draco’s head for hours now.  
Of course, rationally, he knew he couldn’t go to bed with Potter. They were in different dorms, after all. But something about hearing that made his stomach ache and his skin burn.  
His stomach was in knots ever since they separated, and his head was pounding. He was finding it hard to breathe.  
Sweat dripped down his forehead, and he panted softly. He didn’t know how long he’d been lying in his bed. Hours? Days? Too long, he knew that much. He’d been away from Harry for too long and now he was reaping the consequences.  
His stomach lurched and he whimpered.  
This was unbearable. He was- he was going to die.  
His brain bounced off his skull, and he tried to smother his face into his pillow. It was hot and sticky and just made him feel worse-  
He needed Harry. And he need Harry now.   
What had he said, at the Three Broomsticks? Wasn’t he meeting Hagrid at midnight?  
A quick glance at his watch told him it was only nine.  
No good. No good at all.  
A shudder wracked his body, and bile crawled up his throat.  
Fuck it. He was going to Gryffindor tower. He didn’t care if he couldn’t get in; just being there would have to be enough.  
With strength he wasn’t sure he had, Draco pried himself from his bed, slipped on his pants, yes while keeping his night shirt on, he wasn’t really thinking clearly alright, and stumbled out of the dorm room.  
Blaise was seated at a couch in the common room, wrapped in a blanket, and reading a book.  
He barely looked up as Draco trudged by, for which he was grateful. He didn’t think he could handle questions right now.  
He just needed Harry. Then he’d be okay.  
He’d never really been to Gryffindor tower before. Never really had a reason to, as he always saw Harry in class, or around the halls.  
A smile overtook his shaky features, and he let his thoughts follow that line of thinking.  
It was always so funny seeing Harry around the school. He always looked so- out of place.  
Harry, while by no means stupid, was no good at school. He rarely paid attention in class if the subject was anything, you know, not directly important to what he was thinking about right then and there.  
His eyes would glaze over, he’d throw a leg up on the back of his chair, or the table if he thought he could get away with it, and drift off into places Draco couldn’t imagine.  
Selfishly, he hoped he was in them, as Harry’s friend.  
And, whenever Harry was forced to work, his tongue would stick out the side of his mouth, he’d squint at whatever paper he’d been given like it had called him fat, and Draco swore his hair split into even more directions.  
That was something he’d discussed on length with Pansy, whenever she’d let him. He was convinced Harry was subconsciously doing hair magic. How else would it droop when he was sad, or lift when he was happy?  
He didn’t see it lift often, Draco realized with a tight feeling in his heart.  
He’d- he hadn’t been very nice to Harry.  
The idea made him sick, more so than he was already.  
How could he not be nice to Harry? He was blunt and foolish and loyal- qualities Draco admired fiercely.   
So what was it then, that had stopped him from showing it?  
Draco thought on it.  
Why… oh why…  
“Shit!”  
But he was interrupted by nothing bumping into him.  
“Harry!” Draco’s arms found their way around Harry’s invisible torso, and all his symptoms melted away.   
He breathed in deeply, relishing in the smell of broom wax and the mustiness that always seemed to cling to him, no matter what.  
“How- how did you find me?” Harry squeaked.  
“I don’t know.” Draco admitted. “It was nine, and I went to look for you because I felt simply dreadful, and then I found you!”  
“Nine?” Harry exclaimed. “Draco, it’s twenty to twelve!”  
“Well, I walk slowly when I’m feeling unwell.” Draco shrugged bashfully. “Now, let me in.”  
“What?” Harry squawked, but Draco had already pulled up the hem of the cloak and slipped under.  
“Truly amazing, this cloak of yours.” Draco complimented, arms snaking around Harry again, letting his fingers tangle into Harry’s sweater. “No wonder you’ve been able to sneak around all these years.”  
“Great, now Malfoy knows my big secret.” Harry muttered, and Draco giggled.  
“You can’t hide from me, Potter~” Draco let his face fall into Harry’s hair, which was spiked with nervousement. Maybe he was worried about the meeting? “And don’t worry about whatever Hagrid wants. I’ll keep you safe.”  
Harry made a strangled sound.  
“Uh- thanks?”  
“Anytime.” Draco pulled back, slipping their hands together, and leaned into Harry’s back, so he wasn’t tugging the material up over their feet. “Shall we go?”  
“We?” his tone peaked again. “But- you can’t come!”  
“Course I can.” Draco began to lead him down the hallway, as Harry seemed uneager to move. “How else am I supposed to protect you? Can’t do that from my bed, silly.”  
Harry was gaping at him, making him laugh again.  
“Stop looking so surprised! You know how I hate to be left out of things.”  
Harry made a sound like he was going to protest, then changed his mind.  
“Yeah, fine. Whatever. But you can’t say anything, you hear me? Hagrid will go nuts if he finds out I’m dragging you along.”  
“Well, he’s stu- uh, not thinking clearly if he thinks I’d let you go alone. He’s near the dark forest for Merlin’s sake, and you’ve had terrible luck with that place.”  
Harry laughed. It was breathy and brief, but Draco’s heart spiked with joy at the sound.  
“No shit. I almost got eaten by a werewolf last time.”  
Draco almost commented on Lupin, but decided against it. He and Harry were friends, right? So that would be a bad idea. Even if he was a poor fit for a teacher.  
“And almost eaten by a unicorn eating weirdo.” Draco opted to say instead. “Too many things want to eat you, Potter.”  
“I’m almost 100% sure I’ll taste like shit, too.” Harry shook his head. “I’m skin, bones, and bad luck. What’s appetizing about that?”  
“Well, I can say for sure it’s not your looks that’s attracting all these monsters.” Draco smothered a grin as Harry sputtered.  
“How dare you? I have at least five people, on record, saying I look like my dad, and he was a proper catch!”  
“It’s so nice how people lie to the less fortunate, isn’t it?”  
Harry roared his anger. Draco pressed a finger to his lips, and leaned in with a smile.  
“Now now, Potter. Let’s not wake the castle with your wailings.”  
Harry’s cheeks darkened, and Draco relished in how cute he looked, all flustered like that.  
“Aren’t you precious?” Draco purred, then pulled away. “Really, Potter, you must stop delaying us to your meeting. It’s like you don’t want to go at all.”  
Harry made an indignant noise, but followed Draco silently.  
Grimly, Draco remembered the last time he’d gone to Hagrid’s hut this late at night, and made a vow that if something similar happened, he was taking Harry, and was holding them up in the attic of the manor, where only his mother could visit.   
It was dark outside, as was to be expected of a cloudy night, but the lights shining from the huts windows illuminated a clear path.  
Draco lost some of his steam, pulling behind Harry slightly, until he realized that put him in the direct path of danger. Summoning his courage, he moved in front again, and knocked on the door.  
“Issat you Harry?”  
“Yes, Hagrid, it’s me.”  
Hagrid swung open the door, and Draco gasped.   
The Magical Creature’s teacher looked like he had made a very sad attempt to put himself together; an ugly, artichoke looking flower popped out from his buttonhole, and bits of comb stuck out of his hair from where he had tried to tame it.  
“You’re really gonna like this, Harry.” Hagrid grinned. “Got somthin really cool to show you, that I do.”  
“Now, Hagrid, it’s very important that I’m back by one-” Harry tried to explain, but Hagrid was already marching off towards the Beauxbatons carriage, and Draco put it together.  
With a flourish he ripped the cloak off himself, grabbed Hagrid’s hand, and, with all his might, dragged him back into his hut.  
Hagrid yelped in surprise, but put up surprisingly little resistance.  
“Ha-harry? Wassis about?” Hagrid asked, eyebrows, despite their size, just disappearing into his hairline.   
“Malfoy!” Harry hissed, taking the cloak off himself as well. “I told you to stay hidden!”  
“You also told me Hagrid was your friend.” Draco wheeled on him. “And yet you want to let him go on a date like this?”   
“Date?” Harry looked, adorably, confused. “What do you mean?”  
“Merlin Harry, remind me to explicitly tell you whenever we go on a date.” Draco scoffed, ignoring Hagrid and Harry’s shouts of shock. “Now, occupy yourselves for a bit, I need to get some things together… this would be much easier if you’d given me prior notice, I could have brought my haircare supplies.”  
While Hagrid and Harry whispered furiously behind his back, Draco scanned the shelves for anything, anything at all, that he could use.  
Nothing.   
“Damn.” Draco sighed, then snapped his fingers. “Hagrid, come here.”  
With a shyness almost comical on a man of his size, Hagrid walked towards him.  
Draco gestured for him to sit down on the floor, and rolled his eyes when the teacher protested.   
“How else am I to reach your hair?”  
Grumbling, Hagrid did as he was told.   
“Good.” Draco rolled up his sleeves. “Don’t move.”   
Pulling out his wand, he did a few simple gestures to loosen his wrist, then pointed it at Hagrid.  
“Aguamenti.”   
A soft stream poured from the tip of his wand, and he maneuvered it around Hagrid’s hair carefully, getting it good and wet.  
Harry gasped behind him, and Draco turned his head.  
“Yes?”  
“You- that’s- that’s a sixth year spell.” Harry stared wide eyed at Draco, who glowed under the attention.   
“Father taught it to me when I was young, to discipline the house elves.”  
Harry’s face fell at that, and Draco’s stomach squirmed.   
“I- I didn’t use to much.” he tried, but Harry merely shook his head.  
“Whatever, Malfoy.”  
Goddammit!   
Draco turned his attention back to his work, frustrated tears clinging to his eyelashes.  
There he went again, fucking up in front of Harry. He didn’t even see the big deal! He thought Harry would approve of this punishment, as it didn’t even hurt them!  
Deciding Hagrid’s hair was as damp as it was going to get, he slipped his wand into his pocket.  
Diving his fingers into his mane, Draco took his anger out on the tangles.  
He kept messing up, and he didn’t even know why! All of his other friends would have remained impressed with him, but now Harry was upset! Why why why-  
“Cool it, Malfoy, before he goes bald.” Harry’s hand was around his own, and the blond took a deep breath. “Honestly, I don’t see why you’re upset.”  
“Because!” Draco burst, startling Harry. “You were happy and you thought I was cool, and all I said was that I used it on house elves, in a non harmful way, and you’re mad at me and I don’t get it!”  
Harry blinked at him. “You.. you really don’t know?”  
Draco shook his head, causing a few tears to slip loose.  
Harry sighed, and let his hands join Draco’s in untangling Hagrid’s hair.  
“I’m upset because I know the house elf was Dobby, and I’ve seen how he is. He starts crying whenever someone shows him the tiniest bit of kindness- it’s heartbreaking, and your family did that.”  
Draco frowned. “But house elves like serving, Harry. It’s not our fault a got a broken one.”  
Harry shook his head. “I can’t- I can’t even- look, just talk to Hermione.”  
“What?” Draco wrinkled his nose. “Why?”  
“She’s got this whole campaign, SPEW, it’s all about getting rights for house elves.” fondness washed over Harry’s features, and Draco softened himself. “She’s been talking our ears off about it for months now, I’m sure she’d jump at the chance to talk to someone new, especially someone who used to own one.”  
Draco wasn’t exactly excited at the idea of one on one time with Granger, but if it made Harry happy…  
“Sure, I can do that.”  
Harry looked flabbergasted. “Re-really?”   
“Of course.” Draco began gathering the unknotted hair in his hand, reaching for the elastic he kept around his wrist ever since he’d befriended Pansy. “If it’s important to you, I’ll make sure it’s important to me. Now, pass me your half. Let’s make a bun out of this, shall we?”  
Harry was frozen for a minute longer, then, grinning, did as was asked of him.  
Stepping back to admire his work, Draco had to say, he’d done good.  
While Hagrid would still be laughed off the premises of anything even remotely fancy, he was definitely looking better than he was a few minutes ago.  
“Nice.” Draco smiled.  
“Looking good, Hagrid.” Harry gave him a thumbs up.  
Hagrid seemed dazed from all that had just happened, but shook his head.  
“Well that was- alright. Alright. Let’s go now, eh? Before it gets too late.”  
Draco could agree to that, he was kind of curious about whatever was going on, now.  
“Come in.” Harry threw the cloak over his shoulders, and Draco dashed in eagerly.  
Mostly so he could ‘accidentally’ fall against Harry’s chest, but that was neither here nor there.  
Harry grunted, then shoved him away. Draco didn’t go far, he fell right back into Harry’s side, and threaded their fingers together.  
Hagrid led them back to the Beauxbatons carriage, and Draco felt much more confident that things would be fine this time around.  
Hagrid knocked on the door, and Madame Maxine popped out.   
“Hagrid!” his name sounded weird, yet elegant, in her accent. “Is it time?”  
“Bong sewer!” Hagrid greeted, and Harry had to physically cover Draco’s mouth to stop his rage filled cry.  
Bong sewer, what kind of animal-?  
They followed Hagrid as he linked arms with Madame Maxine and led them around the pen her massive flying horses were sleeping in.  
Harry had an adorably confused look on his face, so Draco leaned in close.  
“What is it?” he asked, barely making a sound.  
“Did he just want to show me Madame? I can see her whenever… she’s kinda hard to miss.” Harry looked so very puzzled by this that Draco almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing.  
“I can’t tell if you really think so little of your friend, or if you’re just not thinking at all, but obviously he’s just taking her with us wherever we’re going.”  
Harry blushed, and Draco delighted in the fact that it was so easy to fluster him.   
“Oh. That makes sense.”  
Draco pressed a kiss to his warm cheek. “Silly.”  
Harry yelped and stumbled.  
“What was that?” Madame swung her head around, trying to identify the noise.  
“Uh, probably just some creature or another, we are on the edge of the forest.” Hagrid covered quickly.  
They didn’t seem to be going into the forest, however, and Draco was ever so grateful for that. He did not fancy visiting that place again, no sir.  
Instead they walked along the edge, the two adults flirting shyly, Harry looking border by the second.  
He really does have the patience of a child, doesn’t he, Draco mused.  
Always had to be doing something, never taking the time to sit back and observe.   
Well, Draco would help with that from now on.  
The castle got smaller and smaller behind them, and noises got louder and louder in front of them.  
Harry perked up, hair lifting slightly, eager to finally figure out what was going on.  
It spiked almost instantly when he saw what was in front of them.   
Draco stumbled to a stop, pale blue eyes wide, grip tight on Harry’s hand.  
Dragons. Motherfucking dragons.   
Draco was suing the damn school. He was sueing it, and then he was tearing it apart with his bare hands.  
“Now, don’t go around talkin bout this,” Hagrid rubbed his hands together nervously. “I just thought you might enjoy takin a look at ‘em.”  
“Oh, I do.” her eyes sparkled in the light of their fire, which was being aimed at the poor men darting around them. “They’re… breathtaking.”  
“No shit.” Harry whispered, horrified. “One fucking poke from them and I’ll never breathe again.”  
“Stay back, Hagrid!” one of the wizards around the nearest one, a big, black, mean looking thing, shouted. “They’ll fry you right and proper if you get much closer!”  
Draco’s grip got impossibly tighter.  
It was obvious what these were for; the first task.  
Was Harry expected to fight one of these fucking things?  
Everyone was screaming and hollering, but Draco wasn’t paying any attention. His eyes were locked with the dragons.  
Don’t you touch him.  
Don’t you fucking breathe near him.   
I’ll gut you my damn self.  
Yellow cat like eyes stared right through him, until with one last screech they began to close, and the dragon fell.  
Draco just caught the end of a stunning spell, and realized what had happened. Well, at least they were out for now.   
“Let’s get closer!” Madame Maxine glided towards the fence keeping the dragons at bay, and Draco scowled.  
One of those creatures was going to try and eat her student, and she didn’t even care!  
Harry walked closer too, and though Draco desperately wanted to pull him away, he followed.  
“Hullo, Hagrid!” the one that had spoken earlier greeted. “Sorry about the fire show, though I reckon you didn’t mind it. We gave them a sleeping draft before we moved them, thought waking up in the dark like this might make them feel better, but they were still right pissed. Poor devils, all shaken up from the travel.”  
Draco found it hard to be sympathetic.  
“Whatcha got?” Hagrid asked as Madame wandered off to see the rest of the dragons. “Is that a chinese fireball I see?”  
“Yep!” the red haired man grinned. “This here is a Hungarian Horntail, blue one over there’s a Swedish short snout, love how they fly, just beautiful, and finally we’ve got a common green welsh, but I think that name doesn’t do them justice, they’re still amazing creatures, common is hardly fair-”  
Draco was going to beat this man with his fists if he kept talking fondly about the animals trying to kill his Harry.  
Harry wasn’t moving beside him, just staring at the slumbering creature with something like awe in his eyes.  
Draco wished he could be surprised he was fascinated by them, but then again, Harry had liked those horrible little wannabe griffins, hadn’t he? Why wouldn’t he like these.  
“What’s she doing here?” the man asked. “I didn’t think you’d be bringing guests. The champions aren’t supposed to know anything about this, you know.”  
Fuck this school and it’s enormous amount of safety hazards.  
“Well, I thought she might find em interestin.” Hagrid shrugged sheepishly.   
“Real romantic.” the other drawled. “How’s Harry?”  
Both boys stiffened at that.   
Hagrid shrugged. “Good as he can be, I guess.”  
Harry frowned at that.  
“Hope he doesn’t get too messed up by this lot.” he gestured over his shoulder. “Couldn’t bring myself to tell Mum what was happening. She’s already losing her mind over that article in the Prophet.” his voice went shrill as he imitated her. “He’s too young for that tournament, how could they let him in? Bet they forced him to do it for publicity, that’s what Myra says. Oh and that poor dear, he still cries over his mum, I never knew!”  
Draco could hear Harry gritting his teeth beside him. With a hard pull, he dragged Draco back towards the castle.  
Draco’s mind swirled with what the red head said. The article?  
Draco remembered when that came out. It had been too funny, all those lies mashed together about him and Granger, or how ‘emotional’ he was.  
Draco hadn’t even seen Harry cry when the dementors did- whatever they did to him. He really doubted that Harry was secretly a crybaby.  
Harry didn’t seem to think it was funny.  
He was fuming, hair jagged, eyebrows furrowed sharply, teeth bared slightly.  
Draco was almost scared of him.  
He didn’t like it.  
So, he yanked Harry to a stop.  
They’d made it back inside the castle now; they stood in front of a painting of a regal tree with heads hanging from it in place of fruit.  
“What?” Harry’s voice was biting, and Draco shivered. He did not like it at all.  
“Are you upset about the paper?”  
“What gave me away?” Harry sneered.  
Draco closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.   
“I think you’re very brave.”  
Harry faltered at that. “What?”  
“The paper, it was obviously trying to make you out to be some soft little crybaby. Well, I know that’s bull. You’re brave, you’re more likely to scream at danger than cry, and you’re with me, not Granger.”  
Harry blinked slowly. “Uhh-”  
“I mean, I was pissing myself in the forest back in our first year, and you were just pissed in general.” Draco held both of Harry’s hands. “You literally got your arm smashed by a bludger, and you were more freaked out by Lockhart trying to heal you than that.”  
With a smile, Draco noticed all the anger had melted off of Harry, and, to his utter delight, that his hair was lifting.  
“So, fuck the Prophet.” Draco let their foreheads touch. “And if anyone brings it up again, I’ll have them taken care of.”  
“Didn’t realize I was friends with a mob boss.” Harry smiled tentatively.  
“Well, you’re not. You’re dating one.” Draco pressed a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips. “Don’t forget it.”  
A complicated mix of emotions washed over Harry, but Draco was focused on the cute little blush that returned.  
He pulled away properly, brushing one of many wayward strands away from Harry’s face.  
“Now, don’t you have something to get back to at Gryffindor tower?”  
Harry nodded, mouth hanging open still, then realization dawned on him.  
“Shit! I have to go!”  
Draco frowned when he said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’, but smiled again when Harry made a point to drag him along.  
Harry almost crashed into the Fat Lady painting, Draco being the only thing to stop him.  
“Balderdash!” he gasped, panting.  
“I guess.” the lady shrugged, eyes still heavy with sleep, and she swung open.  
Draco followed Harry into the tower, and gasped angrily.  
Gryffindor tower was… well lit! And there was no cold draft!   
Draco ripped the cloak off and stormed up to the walls.  
Not one goddamn speck of mildew or mold.  
“This is bULLSHIT.” Draco roared. “Why is your place so nice when we have to fight tooth and nail to make sure ours is merely comfortable!”  
“Is the Slytherin common room really that bad?” Harry asked, wrapping up what Draco assumed to be the cloak and setting it down on a chair.  
“Part of our first year speech is basic spells to get rid of fungi.” Draco leered.  
“That… doesn’t sound healthy.”  
“Not much here is.” Draco snorted. “I’d chose Beauxbaton’s or Dirmstrung any day over this dump. It’s sticks and stones held together by tradition.”  
“I thought you liked being a Slytherin.” Harry leaned against the fireplace.  
“I do, it’s an important part of my family’s history.” Draco’s chest puffed out with pride, then deflated. “But… I dunno. It’s not much fun being the evil house. If it was just the other students, than that would be fine, we do it on purpose for the most part, but. But sometimes it’s the teachers too.”  
Harry frowned sympathetically. “Malfoy…”   
The fire crackled unnaturally, and Harry was cut off by a head popping out of the flames.   
“Sirius!” Harry cheered, face splitting into a grin; a real, genuine grin that made Draco just melt.   
“Hello, Harry.” the man smiled up at him.  
Draco knew this man, had seen him all over newspapers and wanted signs all last year, and immediately leaped into action.  
He grabbed Harry around the torso, yanked him behind his back, and aimed his wand to the fugitives face.  
“If you so much as breathe in a way I don’t like, I will severe your head from your grimey body.” Draco snarled.   
“Malfoy!” Harry squawked.  
“Don’t worry, Harry.” Draco shot him a fierce look. “This man won’t hurt you.”  
“No, stupid, of course he won’t, he’s my godfather!”  
Draco blinked, arm drooping slightly. “He’s… what?”  
“My godfather, and a man who was framed.” Harry reached a hand out slowly. “So just, put down the wand, and please try not to wake anyone up for the love of Merlin, I can’t explain a Slytherin and Sirius being in here, I just can’t.”  
Still skeptical, Draco lowered his arm all the way. He remained in front of Harry until the other moved him so he could freely talk to Sirius.  
“Eh, what’s all this about?” Sirius asked, wearing the same look everyone had whenever they saw Draco today. Maybe he had a hair sticking out of place?  
Harry rubbed his forehead and dropped to the floor, sitting cross legged.  
“So much has happened, Sirius. So very much.”  
He then went on a long rant about everything that had been going wrong lately, and Draco wanted to hear it all, he really did, but the stress from earlier, the long walk to and from Hogsmeade, staying up so late… it was wearing on him.  
So, he did the most logical thing he could think of.  
He plopped his head down on Harry’s lap, supported his head with his arm, and let the warmth of the fire carry him off to sleep.

Absently, as he talked about all that had happened, Harry found his hand running through alf’s hair.  
He stopped, naturally, because that was just. It was a weird thing to do.  
Malfoy made a sad noise in his sleep, and shuffled, as if searching for it.  
And, well, he looked peaceful, in the firelight. Sharp edges smoothed out, bang splayed delicately on Harry’s leg, face calm, almost… pretty.  
So, Harry let his hand go back, and promised himself he would talk to a teacher tomorrow.  
Everything would be sorted out, he’d have some blackmail on Malfoy if it ever came down to it, and everything would be back to normal.  
Except for those goddamn dragons he was supposed to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case i didn't make it clear, Draco's emotions have been turned up by like. ten by this potion. i don't think Draco would actually start crying if he was in his right mind for any of the reasons he does here lmao
> 
> Also: almost every SiNgLe time I wrote Draco instead of Malfoy even though I want harry calling him that to be a special uwu moment so. if i slip up ignore it pls i beg.


	3. A Case of the Malfoy's

So, turns out letting a classmate from another house into his dorm, and telling him the password, and letting him fall asleep on his lap, and then falling asleep on him, was against the rules.

Like, very very  _ very  _ against the rules.

It didn’t help that he was Harry Potter, and the other was Draco Malfoy, two pre established rivals.

Mcgonagall genuinely looked like her head was going to explode when she called Harry down to her office.

Malfoy tagged along, both because the potion in his system apparently made that a must, and because he was also summoned.

Mcgonagall was honestly losing her damn mind; she’d been shouting for around thirty minutes, and Harry didn’t really catch most of it.

Malfoy certainly didn’t seem bothered; he was entertaining himself by poking Harry’s fingertips over and over again. 

“-my biggest question, Potter.” Mcgonagall collapsed into her chair, rubbing her eyes. “Is why  _ him _ ?”

Harry squirmed in his seat.

“Well, uh, something…  _ happened _ at Hogsmeade, and uh. Well, you see…” Harry shot Malfoy a nervous look. He wasn’t sure how the other would react to hearing about the spell; he didn’t seem to even really remember it. “Uh, can we talk? Privately?”

Malfoy’s head snapped up at that. “What? Why would I leave? Why can’t I stay?”

Fuck, fuck, pacifiy, pacify-

Thankfully, Mcgonagall was thinking the same thing, and reacted much faster. 

“This is a Gryffindor matter, mister Malfoy. But do not worry, as soon as we are done, you will be let right back in.”

Malfoy still seemed uneasy. “How long will this take? Are you sure I can’t just stay? I can cover my ears!”

“I’m afraid I must insist you give us a moment alone.” Mcgonagall restated firmly. “You may wait right outside the door, and I will let you in the second it is appropriate.”

Malfoy shot Harry a panicked look. “Harry?”

Harry froze in his seat.

“Uh…” what to do what to do? Unthinking, he yanked his sweater off, leaving him in just his button up. “Take this, until you can come back. Okay?”

Draco relaxed at that, taking the garment in his hands and pulling it over his head. He buried his nose into it, and breathed deeply.

“Okay.” he looked up, gentle affection in his eyes, and left a light kiss on his lips. “Be quick.”

With that, he was out the door, after sparing him one last look.

When Harry turned around, Mcgonagall looked just as shocked as Harry felt. 

“Join the club.” he muttered weakly.

“What- what on God’s green earth is happening?” her voice cracked in a way that betrayed her confusion. “I don’t- Potter, of all the things I’ve seen, this one makes the least amount of sense.”

“Preaching to the choir.”

“What- what caused this?”

Harry laughed darkly. “It didn’t occur naturally, that’s for damn sure.”

He told his professor all that had happened, with the fight, and the shop, and the weird spell, until she cut him off with a barely concealed groan.

“I was sure we had blocked her from ever coming back.” Mcgonagall rubbed her temple. “I’m very sorry, Potter. That woman’s name is Elsabeth, she’s a former student of ours who takes far too much joy in ‘helping’ people.”

“You’ve dealt with her before?” Harry brightened. “So you know how to fix this?”

“Aye.” Mcgonagall sighed. “But she’s picked up more than a few tricks from other countries. She mixes what she knows into one big ugly pot, so only she can undo them.” she shot him a very sympathetic look. “I’m really very sorry, Potter, but I doubt even Professor Snape could come up with a solution for this.”

Harry’s head thunked against her desk. “So we’re just- stuck like this? Forever?”

“Of course not, dear.” Mcgonagall soothed. “We’ve gone through this before, remember? She knows to get out quick after she’s done her damage, but we always track her down sooner or later. Soon as we do, we’ll make her put a stop to this, and hopefully lock her away nice and tight.”

That did very little to reassure Harry. “But… there’s nothing we can do now?”

Mcgonagall’s shoulders sagged. “I’m afraid not. Can you list the symptoms for me? It looks like we’ll have to make accommodations for them.”

“Alright.” Harry wracked his brain. “Um… he thinks he’s in love with me, duh. He caters to me, a lot, he’s dumb protective, and he kinda just… follows me around, now? I tried to ditch him last night, to go to bed, but he just came after me. Oh, and he is very, very unaware he’s been spelled.”

“Hm.” Mcgonagall rubbed her chin. “Let’s let him in, see if there’s anything else.”

Malfoy burst through the door the moment he was given the all clear, sitting on the arm of Harry’s chair and running his fingers through dark locks.

“You really should let me help with this, I can do wonders for you.” Malfoy murmured. “Though, I’d be sad to see the mess go. You look so cute with it…”

Mcgonagall cleared her throat. “Malfoy, if you could sit in your _ own  _ chair.”

He pouted, but did as he was told. He made sure to lock their hands together before he did, however.

“Now, I hear you went looking for mister Potter last night. Can you tell me why?”

Malfoy frowned. “Well, I was feeling horrible. Like my insides were boiling, and going to explode right out of me, and I knew if I was around Harry, I’d feel better.” Harry got a sweet smile. “And I was right.”

“So, tonight, for example, if you were to sleep in your own bed-”

“No!” Malfoy snapped, surprising the others with the desperation behind it. “Please. Please don’t make me.”

Mcgonagall, eyes still wide from the outburst, made a note on a piece of paper. “I see. Well, that’s all for now, boys. Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Fat chance, Harry thought bitterly. Sirius had said many damning things against Karkaroff last night, and add that to the dragon nonsense, Harry doubted he was going to be able to enjoy much of anything. 

Malfoy arched himself across Harry’s back, still wearing his sweater. “Shall we go get breakfast?”

“I’m not that hungry.” Harry admitted. “What I really want is to talk to Hermione.”

Malfoy frowned. “But.. if I don’t eat breakfast, I’ll have to eat lunch, and I absolutely loathe lunch.”

“What?” Harry quirked a brow. 

“Pansy’s rules.” Malfoy shrugged. “I must eat two meals a day, or she’ll tell the others something awful about me.”

“Oh, well… interesting tactic, I guess.”

“But effective.” Malfoy hummed. “So, let’s eat.”

“We can’t sit at the same table.” Harry reminded him. “We’re from two different houses.”

Malfoy suddenly felt a lot heavier against him.

“Then stay in the Great Hall? So I can see you?” he asked quietly, and dammit, he sounded just so  _ sad- _

“Alright, I can agree to that.” Harry sighed.

“Yes!” Malfoy grinned, kissing all along Harry’s cheeks. “You’re so good to me.”

Okay, all these kisses were really starting to get to Harry.

It was… it was weird! No one ever kissed Harry, ever! And suddenly they were raining down on him!

And he wasn’t all too happy about who they were coming from.

After all, the boy beside him, jovially swinging his hand, had not twenty four hours ago been tormenting him about that damn article; not to mention the years of harassment he’d suffered at his hands.

He wasn’t sure a potion could make him forgive that.

But, as Malfoy was playing nice, he decided he would too. He’d feel bad if he was making him cry all the time.

They passed many a student on their way to breakfast, and that’s when Harry realized he had a new problem.

People were going to see him. With Malfoy. Holding hands. 

Possibly kissing.

And, eventually, word of this would get to Cho, if she didn’t see it herself first. The girl he actually  _ wanted  _ to be kissing.

He grimaced.

If the world could give him  _ one,  _ just  _ one  _ break, that would be  _ superb.  _

Resigning himself to his fate, Harry pushed through the crowds of people and into the Great Hall.

Malfoy, reluctantly, broke off to the Slytherin table, after giving Harry one quick peck that absolutely no one missed.

His face was on fire as he sat beside Hermione and Ginny.

Ginny was giving him an odd look, but it had a suspicious amount of mocking behind it, so he turned his nose up to her.

Hermione decided not to comment.

“Hungry, Harry?” she asked instead. 

Harry shook his head. “I’m the farthest from hungry right now.”

Hermione hummed sympathetically. “Yes, I’m sure you’re quite stressed. How did your talk with Padfoot go?”

Harry’s expression, somehow, got even glummer. “More bad news.”

“Blast.” she muttered into a spoon full of porridge. “Can’t you get a break?”

Harry laughed humorlessly. “Only if my name were something else.”

“I guess you do have a point there.” Hermione pushed her bowl away. “Well, you caught me at a good time, I’m all done. Want to go chat somewhere a little more private?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by some bloke from the Slytherin table calling for him.

“Don’t fancy Granger anymore, Potter? Can’t blame you, she never did fill out did she-” but then  _ he  _ was cut off by a very angry, very swift, blond blur.

In seconds the student was against the wall, and a wand was basically up his nose.

Harry couldn’t hear what spell was uttered, but soon the culprit had tentacles oozing out of his ears like there was no tomorrow.

Harry lept out of his seat, a sinking suspicion he knew who had done that.

Sure enough, Malfoy whirled around, slicking back his hair, and straightening Harry’s sweater.

“Anyone else?” he asked coldly. “Or may my  _ boyfriend  _ and his friend return to their business?”

Silence. Not even the teachers could drudge up a comment.

Ho-

-ly

Shit. 

Malfoy, in front of the  _ entire fucking school,  _ had just  _ hexed another student, in his name, and said they were dating! _

Harry was sure of it. This was the day he died.

Most likely by suicide.

Everyone slowly turned to face him, evil glee on some faces, abrupt horror on others.

Definetly suicide.

At the farther end of the Gryffindor table, Harry was sure he could hear Ron choking.

One hundred percent suicide.

Then, someone snickered.

The first snicker triggered more snickers, and soon everyone was losing their shit.

Harry got so far as to pull his wand out of his pocket, aim it at his own heart, and mutter the first of the killing curse before Hermione could slap his hand away.

“Spare me.” he hissed, eyes wide and begging.

Hermione said nothing, just grabbed his hand and ran.

Down the halls, out the doors, and to the far end of the lake.

There Harry did something he felt very, very entitled to.

He screamed. He screamed till it felt like his throat was tearing, until he could feel the breath leave his lungs, and he had to think long and hard about whether he wanted to let more in.

He did, and soon he was collapsed against the ground, projecting all his furious energy into the sky.

He actually managed to make a dark cloud doing that, and felt an odd sense of pride in the act.

As predictable as the sun rising, Malfoy came along, and planted himself on the ground beside Harry.

“Sirius thinks Karkaroff put my name in the goblet.” Harry said glumly, mostly to fill the silence, and to get it off his chest..

“Oh?” Malfoy quirked his brow conversationally.

“Apparently he used to be a death eater. Apparently he put a lot of people in jail.”

“So what does that have to do with you being in the tournament?” Malfoy asked, head propped up on his elbow.

“I’m not sure.” Harry was still looking at the cloud he made.

“I think we should focus on the dragon first. Whatever Karkaroff has done won’t matter if you’re dead.” Hermione chimed in.

“Hermione says I should worry about the dragon.” Harry echoed.

“I heard.” Malfoy actually managed to smile.

Bastard. 

“You’ve embarrassed me.” Harry told him spitefully.

Malfoy responded by scooting closer and letting his head rest on Harry’s chest. 

“That’s not an apology.”

Malfoy curled his fingers around Harry’s night shirt, which he really did need to change out of, and whispered “I’m sorry.”

Harry let out a sigh that turned into a groan, and slipped his arm out from under Malfoy so he could put it around his waist.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling shitty enough to want a hug.”

“I could have done that.” Hermione muttered.

“Not as good as I can.” Malfoy chirped, snuggling up to Harry.

“What am I going to do?” Harry leaned back to look at an upside down Hermione. “How am I going to survive this?”

Hermione shrugged. “I’ve got no ideas; zero, in fact.”

Harry groaned again. 

“But the library might have something?” she tried.

An even louder groan.

“Fine.” he relented, not moving. “We’ll go to the library, so more people can stare at me, and I’ll read books, which will mean nothing to me, and just really  _ stoke _ the flames of my anxiety.”

“Brilliant!” Hermione said with rather forceful cheerfulness. “I’ll make sure to spare some time for you to wallow while we’re at it!”

“Thank you.”

Harry was right about the library, but that was okay. He didn’t mind killing time.

He just wished there was a certain ginger with him when Hermione and Malfoy broke out into an all out war over who had higher marks in their respective classes.

The day came and went, and thus night followed suit.

But with night came the issue of sleeping arrangements.

Particularly, Malfoy’s sleeping arrangements.

The boys of Harry’s dorm were in an uproar.

“ _ Malfoy  _ is not bloody sleeping in here!” Seamus roared. “He’ll skin us in our sleep!”

“I would never do anything to one of Harry’s friends!” Malfoy shot back; the fighting only escalated from there.

Of course, they all knew about the love spell, and Harry was sure that meant that the rest of the castle knew by now too. Unfortunately, that didn’t change much.

Mcgonagall had long given up trying to establish peace with the screaming teens, leaving them to sort matters out on their own.

Harry hung at the back of the room, longing for sleep.

Ron, to his surprise and private glee, walked up to him.

“Love spell, huh?” he asked, avoiding eye contact.

“Mhm,” Harry let his head thud against the wall he was resting on. “Mcgonagall says there’s no ready cure, so, this is my life now.”

“Huh.” Ron scuffed a socked foot along the ground. “That sucks.”

“Yep.” Harry popped the p. “Just one more thing to go wrong in the swirling shit show of my life.”

Ron ground his teeth together, and mustered up the courage to say “At least everything else is going well for you.”

Harry gave Ron a look filled with all the resentment he’d been bottling up over the past few months.

“Are you serious?” Harry spat. “I would trade my right fucking  _ arm  _ to just be some kid, watching the tournament, pining over Cho,  _ consensually.  _ But instead, I’m probably going to die fighting some wizardry bullshit, my enemy thinks we’re dating and keeps kissing me, everyone think’s I piss my bed and cry myself to sleep, and my own supposed  _ best friend  _ thinks I’m doing it for the fucking attention. But yeah, you’re right. Everything else is fucking  _ peachy.” _

Ron gaped at him, but Harry was done caring.

He was surprised he’d said any of that at all, but his mouth did tend to loosen when he was tired.

He stormed forward, towards one of the few people not giving him shit for once, grabbed his hand, and pulled up beside his bed. 

“Malfoy sleeps here. I don’t give a damn how the rest of you feel.” Harry announced. “If anyone has an issue, tell my Mum. She’ll listen as well as I will.”

With that he threw back the covers, pushed Malfoy under them, and crawled in himself.

“And if I hear  _ one  _ motherfucking sex joke or inuendo, I will personally make sure I see each and every one of you in Hell.” he paused. “Except Neville.”

With that, he threw the blankets over his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and smushed his face into Malfoy’s chest.

Because, even with three years of shittiness to put him off, one day of kindness was all Harry really wanted. And if that came from Malfoy? Then so be it.

Harry wanted to tell Cedric about the dragons

Malfoy hadn’t been so sure, at first. Giving the enemy an advantage? That didn’t seem wise.

But Harry put an end to that line of thinking quickly.

“He’s not my  _ enemy _ .” Harry sighed as he rubbed his brow. “Even in terms of the tournament, we both fight for Hogwarts. But that’s not what this is about, I just don’t want him getting hurt walking in there with zero preparation.”

Malfoy cooed at him. “You’re so noble.”

Harry waved him off. “Whatever. It’s called being a good person, nothing special.”

Even drugged, Malfoy was still accusing him of having a hero complex. Well, at least this time, it was in a nice way.

Malfoy leaned back on Harry’s bed. They were still in the Gryffindor dorm rooms, the other’s had all left as soon as possible, so Harry was relishing in the alone time.

Harry pulled out his school robes, and shot Malfoy a suspicious look.

“You’re not gonna peak on me while I’m changing, right?”

Malfoy giggled, then wiggled his eyebrows. “Not unless there’s something you think I’d like to see.”

“Ugh!” Harry made a point to throw his shoe at Malfoy, who was cackling into his pillow. “Don’t sully my peaceful morning with your… unchristian-ness!”

“Are you even religious?” 

“Not the point.”

More despicable laughter.

Bastard.

“Bastard.” Harry muttered, closing the curtain on the bed. “I mean it, no peeking.”

“Please, Potter.” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I think I understand basic consent.”

Harry almost cried.

Almost. 

Instead, he dressed speedily, and dragged Malfoy down the stairs.

Many a Gryffindor were still in the common room, gathering what they would need for their classes that day.

Harry opted to skip breakfast, instead heading right to his first class with Malfoy’s hand in his.

Millions of thoughts were swirling in his head.

He had to tell Cedric, he had to find a way to not die tomorrow, he had to keep Malfoy from embarrassing him anymore than he already had…

“Um, mister Potter?” Professor Sprout walked up to him, slight confusion on her face. “Why is mister Malfoy here? And… why is he wearing pajamas?”

Shit.

Harry turned to look at Malfoy, who was slouched against a tray full of plants, pouting in the same striped pants he’d been wearing for three days now.

“I told you I need to eat breakfast, Potter.” he pouted.

Shit.

With hooded, baleful eyes, he looked to his professor. 

“I might be a bit late.” he announced glumly.

So, back inside the castle they went. 

Walking up to the Slytherin table with a slightly smelly Malfoy on his arm was probably the worst thing Harry had ever done in his terrible life.

Oozing patheticness, he turned sadly to Pansy.

“Could you get him some fresh clothes?” he asked dully.

Pansy gaped at them. 

“So… he’s been spelled?”

Harry nodded.

Malfoy sat at the table, and whined at Harry’s distance, despite it being only a few steps away.

Harry draped himself across Malfoy’s back, too tired to stand.

“You’re killing me.” he muttered grimly.

Pansy was still staring at him.

“His hair… and his smell… has he done  _ any  _ basic hygiene?”

“I think he washed his hands after using the toilet?” Harry offered. “At least I hope he did, he won’t stop holding my hand after all.”

“I’m not an animal, Potter.” Malfoy announced daintily. 

“You  _ smell  _ like one.” Pansy wrinkled her nose. “We need to take him back to the Slytherin common room, freshen him up.”

“He won’t like that.” Harry pointed out. “He hates being seperated.”

“Why would I ever want to be away from you?” Malfoy sounded so puzzled, and his confused face bordered too close to cute for Harry to keep looking at.

He was mad at him, dammit. He was complicating things, and embarrassing him.

Pansy tucked a strand of hair beside her ear, cracked her back, then leaned in close to Malfoy’s ear.

“You smell like garbage, and Potter is getting all of it.”

Malfoy’s spoon paused on it’s ascent to his mouth.

“What must he think of you? So smelly and dirty. Certainly not someone to be taken seriously.”

His hand trembled. 

“Surely, if you keep this up, he’ll want nothing to do with you-”

Malfoy lept from his seat, throwing Harry back. 

“I have to change.” he announced. “And shower.”

Then he was gone.

“Crabbe, Goyle-” Pansy called.

“On it.” they stood up and followed the frantic blond out of the room.

Harry stuffed a piece of Malfoy’s half eaten toast into his mouth. 

“How did you do that?” he asked, almost impressed.

She shrugged. “I know how to push buttons. It’s a talent of mine.”

“Yes, one Hermione has been on the receiving end of, many times.”

She tried for apologetic. “She’s a tough girl, she can take it.”

“Hmph.” Harry straightened up. “When he gets back, I’m in greenhouse three.”

She nodded. “I’ll let him know.”

And Harry was off, without a shadow for the first time in… a day? Had it really only been that?

It felt much longer.

And, Harry realized with dread, would probably go on for much longer as well.

Guess this was his life now.

Walking down the halls, Harry actually bumped into someone, because apparently that’s all he could do nowadays.

Shaking his head he realized, with a sigh of relief, that it was Cedric

“Cedric, just the man I was looking for.”

The taller boy gave him a suspicious look. “What for?”

“We’re fighting dragons, tomorrow. Seemed only fair that you should know.”

Cedric’s eyes widened. “Wait- really?”

“Mhm.” Harry felt a mad sort of smile appear. “We’re fighting fucking dragons. To build relationships. Smart, right?”

Cedric held his head and flopped against the wall.

“Dragons.”

“Dragons.” Harry nodded, then hit Cedric playfully on the arm. “Best of luck. I’m almost for sure not going to make it, but I believe in you.”

Cedric laughed, though it didn’t sound happy. “I don’t know, if Harry Potter can’t do this, what chance do I have?”

“A very high one, trust me.” Harry tried for a more genuine smile. “I’m actually incredibly stupid, and generally survive because of my friends, which I’m not allowed to bring, I’m guessing.”

Cedric chuckled, an unfairly pretty sound, then put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, best of luck, Harry.”

Harry felt his cheeks warm at the soft look in Cedric’s grey eyes. “Uh- you too.”

With one last shy smile, Cedric left, and Harry stood there, thinking of pretty boys and pretty girls.

“Potter, with me.”

Harry whirled on his foot, finding Moody behind him.

“Uh, actually, sir, I have to get to biology-”

“Later. Come with me.” Moody turned and limped off.

Harry sighed. Of course. Why would anything go according to plan today? That would just make too much sense…

Draco was frantic.

He showered faster and more aggressively than he thought possible, dried with the intensity of a raging flame, and almost started crying when he saw his imported hair gel was running low.

“It’s okay, Draco.” Crabbe offered hesitantly. “I’m sure Potter won’t mind-”

“He thinks I’m garbage!” Draco slammed his fist on the bathroom counter. “Trash! A homeless man who never learned how to take care of himself! It is  _ not okay. _ ”

Crabbe had no response to that, and that just made Draco feel worse.

“Fetch my robes!” Draco gestured wildly. “I have to fix my hair!”

Slick back, style the bang, smooth his eyebrows, lick his hand and smooth everything down for good luck.

Get dressed, position his hat at just the right angle, smack his cheeks for that rosy look.

He looked in the mirror.

Perfect.

Now, to find Harry.

Without another word to his friends, he sped out into the hall.

Now, where was his boyfriend?

Draco loved that word.  _ Boyfriend _ . Friend that was special to him, in which they shared a romantic relationship.

Boyfriend. 

They were in the greenhouse this morning, weren’t they?

So, maybe Potter was there?

Nope.

But Hermione was, and hadn’t Harry told him to talk to her? About SPEW or what not?

So, he saddled up to her.

Her eyes went round as saucers when she saw him.

“Malfoy?” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

“Talking to you.” he leaned beside her, looking at… whatever plant she was working with.

“About what?” Hermione’s voice was high and pitchy, but Draco didn’t comment. That would be saying something mean against Harry’s friends, after all.

“SPEW.” he responded simply, tracing his finger in a small pile of dirt. “Harry and I had a row about house elves; apparently I’m wrong in what I think about them, but you’re right in what you think. So, what do you think?”

“Uhh, how do you mean?”

“I say there’s no harm in using them as servants, because they enjoy it, and that’s just how it’s supposed to be. He didn’t say why he disagrees with that.”

“Oh… Merlin,” Hermione muttered under her breath. “Well, uh, the main issue with that is that they’re slaves, who have been brainwashed into enjoying it.”

“Slaves?” Draco furrowed his brow. “That sounds a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s accurate.” Hermione fiddled with the leaves of the plant. “They’re owned property, and are forced to obey their masters. That sounds like slavery to me.”

“But that only applies to people.” Draco objected. “House elves aren’t people.”

“They may not be humans, but they still deserve to be treated like people.” Hermione looked at him, hand on her hip. “They have dreams, and thoughts, and ideas and opinions. That makes them worthy of respect in my book.”

“Well, what would you have them do instead? They enjoy the work they do, why would you take that away from them?” 

“I don’t want them to stop doing what they like, that would go against my entire argument. I just want them to choose what they do, where they do it, for how long, and I want them to be paid for it. They can be servants if they chose, but they should be compensated for their work with more than a ‘guess I won’t kick you tonight’.”

Draco bit his lip. “But… why would we waste money on creatures that would do it anyways?”

Hermione gave him a Look. “Malfoy, only the rich families have house elves. I think they can spare some change for the workers that make their lives so much easier to live.”

“But, if we paid them, what’s the point in even having them? We might as well just hire help.”

“Yep.” Hermione agreed. “That’s the point, actually. I want house elves to be considered hired help, so they can at least get some legal backing to support them. Like, if you abuse a butler, they can sue, but house elves can’t.”

Draco rubbed the back of his head. “I think… technically, I get it. But I’m still confused.”

“Well, you’ve been asking a lot of questions, which shows you’re interested.” Hermione smiled at him. “And it would be a huge help to my cause to win someone like you over, so I’m willing to put in the work if you are.”

Draco smiled back. “Okay.” 

It was… weird. Talking about something that had been just… a background noise in his life. He’d never considered that house elves were a bad thing, but, maybe?

He wasn’t sure. He’d have to talk to his mother about this. 

Harry burst into the classroom then, sweaty and breathless. He offered some excuse to Sprout, and then made his way over to Hermione.

Draco intercepted him with a hug and a kiss.

Harry had yet to reciprocate one, but Draco was pretty sure he’d never done this before. Maybe he just didn’t know how?

Regardless, Draco pulled away, leaving one hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“You sure took your time.” Draco smirked.

“I was- talking to Moody.” Harry panted.

Draco frowned. 

“I don’t like him.”

“I can’t say if I do, either.” Harry admitted. “But he gave me an idea on how to beat the dragon.”

He looked behind Draco, making eye contact with Hermione. “I need to master that summoning charm.”

“Okay.” Hermione didn’t even blink. “I’ll find someplace quiet to study at lunch.”

“Perfect.” Harry leaned into Draco slightly, making him beam. “I assume you’re coming too?”

“Course I am.” Draco winked. “I’ll provide emotional support.”

“Oh goody.”

They skipped lunch, which Draco wasn’t complaining about, to practice, but there was one small problem.

Harry was just _ dreadful  _ at the charm. 

At some points Draco felt the urge to laugh, but they felt like they were coming from a mean place, and that confused him.

Why would he be mean to Harry?

It made no sense, so Draco opted not to. 

Harry had to go to class after that, and, unfortunately, it was divination.

“Damn.” Draco frowned up at the ladder.

“What?” Harry asked. “What’s wrong?”

Draco sighed and rocked in his feet. “I can’t go in there.”

Harry made a face at that. “What? Why not? You’ve gotten into literally everywhere else, I think we can handle Trelawney.”

It warmed Draco’s heart that Harry wanted him to go with him (Harry himself was confused as to why he was even fighting it) but shook his head.

“I’ve said some… unforgivable things to her, and I’m no longer permitted to get too close to her.”

“What did you say?” humour lit up Harry’s eyes, and Draco ducked his head, cheeks turning pink.

“I may… have called her a cuntbag.”

Harry hooted.

“Are you serious?” his eyes crinkled with the force of his smile.

“She predicted that I’d end up killing my wife and four kids, yeah I called her a cuntbag!” Draco defended himself. “I also… may have told her to ‘eat my cock’.”

Harry was howling, leaning against the ladder to keep himself steady.

“You, Draco Malfoy, the kiss up to everyone except Hagrid, told a  _ teacher _ to eat your  _ cock?” _ he was wiping away tears.

Draco’s whole face was on fire. “She accused me of murdering my family, I was pissed!”

Harry looked like he was struggling to breathe for the second time that day.

“I can’t believe you,” Harry was holding his stomach now.

“Well, whatever.” Draco glowered. “I… I guess I’ll wait here? For you to finish?”

Harry’s laughter died out. “What? Malfoy, no. You have class too, remember?”

“Yes, but…” Draco rung his hands. “It’s on the other side of the castle.”

Harry sighed and, with the same quick movements as before, pulled off his robe.

“Here, we’ll switch.”

Draco beamed. “Okay!” 

Harry was wearing jeans and a t-shirt under his robes, while Malfoy looked much more professional in his button ups and dress pants. They swapped quickly, and soon Malfoy was wrapped up in that wonderful scent again.

“Thank you, Harry.” he pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek, and waved him off. “Now, go. Waste your time with-”

“The cuntbag?” Harry grinned.

Draco shoved him lightly. “Whatever. See you later.”

His classes passed by achingly slow, as did dinner, which Pansy forced him to eat with her, stating several concerns that Draco merely tuned out.

Finally, she let him go, and he walked into the classroom they were in earlier. 

Harry and Hermione were already there, naturally, back to practicing.

Hermione, however, took a break to walk up to him.

“Mcgonagall pulled me aside today.” she told him. “Said you have permission to stay in the dorm with Harry until… er, you don’t want to?”

Draco beamed. “Splendid!”

(Snape had done some research, trying to determine what spells this one imitated, and found one that seemed to match their symptoms. Draco couldn’t go too far from Harry, which the teen had cleverly found a loophole around by giving Draco his possessions, Snape refused to admit, and would basically be a little love sick puppy until whatever twisted requirements were met, or until they found Elsabeth.)

Harry still sucked ass, but when they moved up to the common room, he finally seemed to get the hang of it.

“Well, Hermione, take notes.” Harry grinned, holding the dictionary he had just summoned. “You want me to complete a spell? Threaten me with a dragon.”

“Marvellous.” Hermione said through a yawn.

After that, it was time for bed, because Harry need all the sleep he could get. 

Draco jumped onto the bed the second they entered the room, snuggling under the blankets, lifting them up to let Harry in. He slumped under them, dropping his glasses off on the table beside his bed. 

Draco waited patiently for him to settle down, then draped himself across Harry.

Harry sighed heavily. His body was tense, his face tight and his fists closed.

That wouldn’t do at all.

Wrapping his legs around Harry’s torso, he flipped them so Harry was on top.

Harry squeaked at the sudden shift, but Draco quieted him by pressing his face into his chest.

“You’re going to be fine.” Draco whispered firmly. “You’re going to summon that broom of yours, fly circles around the damn dragon, and complete whatever horrible task they have for you. Hermione believes in you, those Creevey brothers believe in you, and I believe in you. So, chin up, Love. You’re going to do just fine.”

Harry blinked up at him, eyes looking strange and fragile without his glasses.

“Are you sure?” Harry whispered, and there was so much vulnerability behind it.

“Of course.” Draco smiled. “I wouldn’t love you if I thought you were some pathetic shrimp.”

Then he kissed Harry.

It was much softer than any of the other kisses, and it lasted longer too.

Draco poured all his love and support into it, and he could feel Harry slowly joining in.

Draco pulled away. “Now, sleep. I can almost guarantee this is going in the papers, and I won’t have you spoiling your picture with bigger eyebags than you already have.”

“Kay,” Harry whispered distractedly.

Draco swept his thumb across Harry’s cheek. “Good night, Harry. Love you.”

Harry muttered something back, but that was enough for Draco.

He settled back, hand tangled in Harry’s hair, which was soft and lifted, thank you very much, and drifted off to sleep.

Draco meant what he said. He had every confidence in Harry’s ability to survive this.

That said, he was still pissing himself with worry.

Harry seemed to be in even worse shape; his face had an odd grey quality to it, and his movements were slow, and sluggish.

There were two classes before the first task, but Draco wasn’t having any of it.

“You want him to sit through bloody class while his death is waiting out there?” he howled, stomping his foot and making a rather impressive ruckus.

With dead eyes, Harry tugged on Draco’s sleeve.

“It’s better than sitting around, doing nothing.” he muttered.

Pain etched itself across Draco’s face. He’d never seen Harry like this before, and he was willing to fight to the death to bring back the easy banter from yesterday, in front of the divination room.

He shot a nasty look to Mcgonagall, who he had been screeching at, and delicately led Harry to his classes.

With something like uneasiness, Mcgonagall approached them again at lunch. 

Draco was sitting at the Gryffindor table that day, daring everyone else to challenge him as he ran a hand along Harry’s back. 

Hermione uttered a goodbye, eyes wide with worry, as Mcgonagall declared the champions were to meet up on the grounds.

Draco stood with him, and nothing in the world could tear his hand from Harry’s.

“Potter, why don’t you give Malfoy a jacket of yours, to ease his worry.” Mcgonagall suggested.

Draco scowled.

“I’ll die before I leave him.” Draco said with finality.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow that, Mister Malfoy.” Mcgonagall was just as firm. “This is for champions only.”

“You’re not taking him from me.” Draco snapped, hand tightening. “I won’t let you.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Don’t make him do this alone!”

Hermione gently put her hand on Draco’s other wrist, but he wrenched it away.

“No, he’s not going without me.”

Everyone at the table shifted uneasily.

“Draco.” Pansy called. “The sooner he goes, the sooner-”

“No!” he snarled. “He stays with me! That’s final!”

“Mister Malfoy, I must insist.” Mcgonagall tried again. “You must let him go-”

“I won’t!” Draco was starting to see red. “I won’t leave him! You can’t do this, it’s not right! It’s not  _ fair!” _

“No one said any of this was fair!” Mcgonagall flared her nostrils. “But it’s what is happening.”

“My father will tell the minister-”

“The minister approved this, Malfoy!” Mcgonagall exclaimed. “There is no getting out of this for him!”

“I won’t let him get hurt by this school’s  _ bullshit!” _

“He won’t get hurt, Mister Malfoy! We’re taking every caution to prevent that!”

“ _ Bullocks!” _

“Draco.”

Malfoy tore his eyes from Mcgonagall to meet Snapes.

“Don’t.” he hissed.

“Control yourself.” the older man drawled. “What would your father think of this spectacle?”

“I don’t- I don’t-” care he doesn’t care, what his dad would say doesn’t matter-

Except it does because his father expects the best of him, and here he is making a scene-

But Harry is in danger and no one else is fighting for him, he has to do  _ something-  _

But what will happen if his father hears of this?  _ When  _ his father hears of this? He’ll be punished severely-

It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter just keep Harry  _ safe- _

When Draco could finally get his head to stop spinning, Harry was gone.

Hermione was rubbing his back, and Pansy was holding his hand, trying to reassure him.

Draco felt numb.

Harry… was gone.

It was safe to say any display he’d made before was nothing to the one he made after that thought sunk in.

Gryffindor would be needing a new table, and that was all there was to be said about that.

He trudged along to the dragon enclosure he had visited only a few nights before, sick to his stomach.

Someone led him to a seat, and he collapsed into something warm and firm. Probably Goyle. He always used Goyle as a shield from the cold weather, and it felt like him.

Cedric went first. Draco glared at him with hate. If he had been the only champion, Harry would be safe.

Next came Fleur. Draco hated her too. Her hair was too similar to his father’s.

Then Krum. He was a thickheaded pig. Draco hated him.

Then, finally, came Harry.

Draco’s heart lept into his throat, along with some bile.

He looked so small, compared to the massive dragon. 

Draco would rip all the bones out of its body if it hurt him, and shove them up Dumbledore’s ass.

Harry, as they practiced, summoned the firebolt. It felt like ages to Draco’s nerve wracked mind, but before he knew it Harry was up in the air. 

Higher and higher he flew, till he was just a dot in the sky.

Draco held his breath, knowing what was coming.

The drop.

Harry plummeted, as he had so many times on the field, darting gracefully and swooping around the dragon.

He was- he was actually doing alright!

He dodged a fire blast neatly, as he would a bludger, and continued to dance circles around the beast.

Draco felt his shoulders relax, and a smile form.

He dodged another wall of fire, he was-

Draco’s heart stopped.

The dragon’s tail grazed Harry’s arm.

Everything else faded away.

_ Harry’s arm was injured. _

_ Harry was injured. _

_ Harry got hurt. _

Barely a minute later Harry had gotten the egg, but Draco didn’t notice because  _ Harry got hurt just like he knew he would- _

Draco was going to kill three things today.

The dragon.

Dumbledore.

And then motherfucking Harry Potter, for putting him through his stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing draco's side on the whole house elf thing was kind of fun? it made me think about how other people view it, and then build up an argument for why they're wrong, so it was fun uwu


	4. Not Much, But Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter title is code for : Rowling made me write filler to fuel her plot, so take what fluff I could squeeze out of it

Harry felt light as a feather.

He’d completed the task, faster than anyone else, and with but a minor scratch.

He was- he was over the moon! For the first time, he allowed himself to think not just about surviving this damn tournament, but about competing in it.

He could, he could actually try and win this!

These thoughts were cut short by Hermione and, to his surprise, Ron, darting into the tent.

“Guys, did you-”

Hermione cut him off. “Just say you’re sorry; it’s the only thing that will pacify him.”

“What?” Harry was confused. Wasn’t he supposed to be receiving praise?

“Just apologize!” Hermione seemed desperate. “For your own good, he’s already ready to murder someone-”

Another figure entered the tent.

Blond, not exactly as tall as Harry, and so pissed that Harry was almost  _ positive  _ he could see dark energy swirling around him.

Harry swallowed.

Oh, that’s right.

Malfoy stalked towards him, a look of fury Harry had never seen before on anyone but Vernon when the owls flooded the house with letters.

“You… motherfucking… cuntbag.” he was trembling.

“M-malfoy,” Harry raised a hand. “I’m fine! Look, already healed, see?”

Malfoy stared him dead in the eye.

“You fucking bastard.” he choked out, and then suddenly there were arms around him, and Harry was being hugged. “You asswipe. You sack of bitchnuts.”

Harry let out a breathy laugh, then carefully let his hand rest on Malfoy’s back.

“Nice to see you too.”

Behind Malfoy, Harry could see Ron staring at them, dumbfounded.

“You… you could have… I reckon whoever put your name in the goblet is trying to kill you.” Ron stuttered.

“No shit.” Harry said coldly, letting Malfoy shove him back so he could sit on his lap and hug him more. “What gave it away?”

Ron opened his mouth, apology in his eyes, and Harry found he couldn’t really stay mad at him.

“It’s alright.” Harry waved him off with the hand not supporting Malfoy.

“But, I should have-”

“It’s alright.” Harry’s voice was earnest. “Seriously.”

Ron let a hesitant grin grow, and Harry matched it.

Hermione looked like she was going to faint.

“You boys…. Make zero bloody sense.” she muttered.

“Come on,” Ron jerked his head. “They’ll be announcing your scores soon.”

“Alright, just let me-” Harry looked down at Malfoy. “Uh, could you let me go?”

Malfoy shook his head and held Harry tighter.

“Malfoy, I need to go see my scores, and I’m fine now,” Harry tried again.

No movement from the blond.

Harry groaned loudly. 

“What if I promise that, next task, I’ll let you tag along for as long as is safe?”

A pause.

Malfoy slowly peeled himself off. “You’re never to do a dangerous thing without me again, understand me, Potter?”

Harry swallowed nervously at the intensity in his pale blue eyes.

“I promise.”

Satisfied, Malfoy hopped down, and held his hand.

“Erm, I need to carry my firebolt, and the egg..” which really did require two hands.

Malfoy frowned. “Granger, Weasley. His things.”

Hermione and Ron were not too pleased with that, but Harry shot them a silent plea.

Huffing, they picked up the items. 

They stepped outside the tent, Ron darting up beside Harry, carrying the egg, telling him of what the others had done.

He winced when he learned Krum had gotten some of the eggs smashed.

“Charlie’s gonna have his head for that,” Harry shuddered.

“He’s gonna skin him.” horror washed over Ron. “I- I can’t let that happen.”

Harry snickered. “Neither can Karkaroff, that’s his best player. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Ron didn’t seem too sure.

They stopped in the middle of the field, Ron explaining the marking rules.

“It’s from one to ten, see? Krum’s in the lead so far.”

Harry nodded.

Madame Maxine raised her wand first; a silver stream erupting from it in a figure eight.

“Not bad, not bad, probably took points off for your shoulder.” Ron guessed.

Hermione trudged up behind them. “That seems a bit harsh, wasn’t his fault.”

Ron waved her off.

Next was Dumbledore, with a nine; Mr. Crouch with the same.

“Nice!” Ron roared.

Bagman was next, with… a  _ ten? _

“H-how?” Harry was stunned.

“Don’t question it!” Ron urged. “Just take it.”

Karkaroff was last, with a four. To keep him humble, perhaps.

Ron was spitting mad.

“What, you can give Krum a fucking ten when he fucking broke half his fucking eggs, but someone who actually does fucking well only gets a fucking four?!” Ron’s face was red with how hard he was shouting.

Harry’s heart soared with how angry he was on his behalf, and felt any remaining bitterness melt away.

Malfoy seemed appreciative too.

“The Weasley’s fucking right, he almost fucking dies and all you can muster is fucking a four? He screeched. “I’ll have your goddamn  _ head  _ for that you oily bastard!”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s alright, guys, I don’t care.”

They shot him matching disgusted looks.

“Your life is on the line here, Harry, at least  _ pretend  _ to care.” Malfoy scoffed as Ron nodded.

Hermione shook her head.

“Bleeding fools, the lot of you.”

Bagman announced that the champions were to meet him in the tent, and then everyone was dismissed.

Harry looked to Malfoy, expecting him to want to tag along, but he and Ron were in an intense discussion, and, well, it was such an odd sight, Harry couldn’t bring himself to break it up.

Instead, he went alone.

Bagman informed them their eggs held a hint to what the next task would contain, and then let them go.

Before he left the tent, Cedric caught up with him.

“Good run, Harry.” he smiled, half his face covered in orange paste, a happy kind of breathless.

“Uh- yeah. You too.” Harry stammered, cheeks pinking. “You did good.”

Cedric beamed at him, gave him one last friendly pat, and left the tent.

Harry smiled wistfully as he walked away, then gave his head a little shake.

Focus. 

Ron and Malfoy were still at it when he got back, and Hermione looked exhausted.

“I don’t even know what they’re yelling about anymore.” she admitted. “I’ll meet you back up at the castle, if I’m not asleep by then.”

“Okay,” Harry gave her a quick side hug. “And thanks, for all you’ve done. For me. It’s- it was nice.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn’t hide her fond smile. “Anytime, Potter.”

Harry turned his attention to the other two, who seemed to have had calmed down.

“So,” Harry said, saddling up to them. “What did everyone else do? I want details.”

Malfoy sheepishly admitted he hadn’t paid any attention until Harry came out, so it was up to Ron to explain everything; something he wasn’t sad about.

He ranted and raved about the others turns (mostly about Krum’s, but as someone who had a living backpack, Harry felt it would be in his best interest to not comment on that) as they walked to the castle.

“I reckon they’ve already got the party set up for you.” Ron remarked after his story telling came to an end.

“Party?” Harry perked up. “Really?”

“Course!” Ron thumped him on the back. “You think Gryffindors would pass up any chance to celebrate, especially one like this?”

Malfoy pressed up tight against him. “You should be celebrated every day.”

“Thank you, Malfoy.” Harry tried very hard to ignore the look Ron was giving him. 

They rounded a clump of trees, and Ron yelped as a witch jumped out at them.

Harry’s hand twitched towards his wand, but Malfoy was already in front of him, wand pointed directly at the witch’s heart.

Harry almost made him put it down, but then he saw who it was.

“Rita Skeeter.” he growled, and Malfoy emanated even more rage. “What do you want?”

“Just a word from the youngest champion!” her beetle like eyes glittered in a way Harry very much did not like. “Care to comment on how you feel having fought that awful beast?”

“Nope.” he stormed off towards the castle.

“Come now, Harry-”

“He said no.” Malfoy snarled. “So leave him alone.”

Rita blinked at him in surprise, which slowly melted into malicious intrigue. “What is this?”

“None of your business.” Harry responded coldly. “Come on, Malfoy.”

Shooting one last withering glare to Rita, Malfoy held Harry tight against him and walked away briskly. Ron followed, ears red and lips pressed together tightly.

“She’s a bitch.” Ron stated as they entered the castle.

“No shit.” Harry snorted. “I’m half convinced she’s going to appear in my bedroom one night, to see if I really do cry myself to sleep.”

Malfoy scowled and leaned more of his weight into Harry.

“I won’t let her.”

“I know, Malfoy, I know.” Harry patted him placatingly. “You won’t let anyone come close.”

He nodded vigorously. “No one.”

“Not even me?” Ron asked, batting his lashes.

Malfoy stuck up his nose. “No.”

Ron snickered while Harry rolled his eyes.

“Ron can hug me if he likes.” he told the blond. “Anyone can, as long as I don’t mind it.”

Malfoy hummed. “Okay. Makes sense.”

“Thank you.”

Harry wanted to send Sirius a (rather lengthy) letter about all that happened at the first task, but he also wanted to speak with Ron privately.

As in, without his shadow.

Fortunately, Hermione picked up on this, and took Malfoy off to collect some of his belongings from his Slytherin dorm room, so he could stay in Gryffindor more permanently.

Harry and Ron trudged up to the owlery, an awkward silence settling in. 

It was weird, after having gone so long without talking, for everything to be okay now.

Ron spoke first.

“So, Malfoy, huh?”

Harry winced. “Yeah. Him.”

“How’d that happen?”

Harry fiddled with the letter in his hands. “This witch, in Hogsmeade, caught us fighting and spelled Malfoy.”

“Huh.” Ron shoved his hands into his pockets. “What’s- what’s it been like? Having him just… hanging off you, treating you all… I dunno. Like that.”

Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Weird? Really, really weird. Sometimes I forget that it’s- Malfoy, I guess. He turns into a weird little love sick puppy sometimes; just goes along with whatever, or hugs me for. Literally no reason. But- but then he does something so  _ him  _ and it throws me through a loop. Like- Hagrid showed me the dragons before the task, and Malfoy tagged along, because that’s all he does now, and he said he didn’t see what the issue with house elves was, I don’t remember how we got talking about it. Now I’m not like, you know, Hermione or whatever, but I still know they get it shitty, you know? But he couldn’t see it. But, then again, one day we were talking before divination, and… it was almost like we were friends. And it was kinda- it was nice. So it’s- it’s just a giant mindfuck.”

“Sounds like it.” Ron shook his head. “Must be nice having him looking out for you, instead of thwarting you, though.”

Harry seesawed his hand. “Kinda? I mean, I like not having to watch my back for him, but he’s so…  _ embarrassing. _ ”

“Like that day in the great hall?”

Harry groaned. “Don’t remind me. He told the  _ entire  _ bloody school we’re dating. How am I supposed to date Cho now? She thinks I like blokes!”

“Don’t you?”

The question stopped Harry in his tracks.

“W-what?”

Ron looked at him with earnest curiosity. “Don’t you like guys?”

Harry made a face. “Ron, I’m literally crushing on a girl.”

“I know, I thought you liked both, like me.”

Harry stared at him with wide eyes. “You- you like  _ guys _ ?”

Ron made a wrangled smile. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ve been near me for the past, uh, forever, but Krum is hot as hell, and I’m totally crushing hard. I thought that was obvious?”

Harry was dumbfounded.

“It’s like, dumb celebrity crush or whatever, but.” Ron shrugged, cheeks red. “Yeah. I like him.”

“Oh.” he breathed.

“Yeah. Wait, are you trying to tell me you  _ don’t  _ like Cedric too? Because I swear you almost attacked Hermione when she went to buy snacks with him instead of you at the tournament.”

Harry flushed. “That- I don’t-” he faltered. “Was that what that was?”

Ron snorted, long and ugly. “Come  _ on _ , man, are you serious?”

Harry squinted at him. “How- where did this even come from? I know you’re too dense to figure it out on your own.”

Ron laughed, rubbing his nose. “Yeah, Ginny might have told me, but still.”

“I bet she had to tell you about your crush on Krum, too.”

Ron knocked their shoulders together. “Shut up! ….. but maybe.”

“Ha!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ron smiled crookedly. “We’re a pair of blokes who like blokes.”

“And girls.”

“Girls and blokes!” Ron cheered and Harry found himself laughing.

“You’re weird.” Harry adjusted his glasses.

“Says the loser with the scar carved into his forehead.”

The boys teased and shoved each other the rest of the way, laughing and settling back into their easy friendship.

Ron had to chase Pigwigeon around the room a couple of times, but he caught him eventually and sent him off with the letter.

Harry filled Ron in on the less fun stuff as they walked back to Gryffindor tower; Karakroff being a death eater and whatnot.

“Explains what Malfoy said at the tournament, eh? About his dad and him being friends? Probably ran around throwing people that night.”

Harry nodded like he agreed, and he guess he did, but it still left a weird feeling in him. Malfoy, even via his father, being connected to the attack that night? It made having him hang around him all the time a lot worse.

“Tea for thought.”

“Isn’t it food for thought?”

“I don’t know. Balderdash.”

The fat lady swung open, revealing vibrant colours and movement.

Harry’s eyes lit up when he saw the party in front of him. 

Fireworks were going off thanks to Lee Jordan, who looked far too proud of himself with the amount he had managed to set off. Food was set up on tables along the walls, along with decorative posters, presumably made by Dean Thomas.

Harry noticed that while most depicted him winning, some showed Cedric on fire, and he ignored the twinge of what he now knew to be a crush in his gut.

Hermione was already there, along with Malfoy, who, predictably, skipped up to him and threw his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Congrats on winning, love.” Malfoy smiled, kissing him on the lips.

Harry stiffened, and appreciated it when everyone very politely looked away.

Even Fred and George had nothing to say about it, which Harry was thankful for, as Malfoy would have thrown a damn fit and probably gotten the whole side of the castle blown up.

Wait, that was an interesting thought. Malfoy against the twins…

But then he was being congratulated by his fellow Gryffindors, and he let the thought go.

Later, then. 

Harry attacked the buffet table, eager to fill his body up on what he’d been denying it for a few days. 

Malfoy daintily picked at some treats now and then, but left the feasting to everyone else.

Harry sat in a chair by the fireplace, one leg thrown over the arm, the other stretched as far as possible out on the floor.

Malfoy wrinkled his nose at him. “Must you take up all this room?”

Harry shrugged, pumpkin cake hanging from his mouth. “I’m just getting comfy.”

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy picked up Harry’s plate, settled down on his lap, back against Harry’s upright knee, one of his own legs thrown over the back of the chair, the other joining Harry’s on the ground.

Harry made a face. “Really? This can’t be comfortable.”

Malfoy leaned back, observing the room. “Malfoy’s do as they please, Potter.”

Harry grunted and dug into his plate again.

Hermione, Harry noticed, was fighting Fred, who was looking far too pleased about the whole thing, though after he said something Hermione didn’t quite catch, she left the argument with a smile.

“What was that about?” Harry asked as she took a seat in the chair beside him (something Malfoy could have done, you know, if he wanted. No pressure.).

“Oh nothing.” she said airily, failing to hide the mischievous glint in her eye.

“Mhm.” Harry glared at her skeptically. “Just- don’t get me expelled over whatever it is.”

Hermione’s face soured a little at that. “What I’m doing is nowhere  _ near  _ as bad as crashing a car onto Hogwarts grounds, but sure. Worry about getting expelled over this.”

Harry threw up his hands. “Message received, enjoy your sneaking.”

A self confident smile. “I will.”

“Open the egg, Harry!” someone called from the throng of people.

“Yeah!” others chorused.

“Go on, Harry, take a peak!” Lee offered it up to him. 

Grinning under all the positive attention, something he’d, well, not been  _ lacking _ , per say, but was grateful to receive from multiple people instead of a spelled one, Harry hoisted the golden egg into the air for all to see, and pried it open. 

A shriek worse than anything Petunia had ever uttered escaped from the capsule, filling the room with it’s wailings.

Kicking Harry in the face, Malfoy flailed making a grab for the egg, closing it and throwing it.

“No more of that.” he announced, crossing his arms.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked, hands around her ears.

“It’s supposed to be a clue for the next task.”

“Think you’re fighting a banshee? That’s what it sounded like to me.” Seamus remarked.

Neville was near tears by the buffet table. “You’re- you’re going to be tortured! That sounded like someone being tortured!”

Malfoy did not like that.

“If Dumbledore thinks he can get away with fucking  _ torturing  _ you, I’ll rip his head off with my own hands and shit on it!”

Harry, still rubbing his sore cheek, brushed that idea off.

“Come on, I’m sure it’s not that. I’ll just- have to think it over.”

Mumbled agreements answered that, and the party went on.

It was one when Harry finally retired to bed, Malfoy passed out beside him. 

He pulled out his little dragon figurine, patting it gently on the head before turning on his side, leaning into Malfoy’s warmth.

Dragons weren’t all that bad, you know. Little mean, little snappish, but they were just defensive, protecting themselves, and Harry could respect that.

Malfoy made a little noise and curled up against him.

Not too bad at all.

Malfoy was nauseatingly cheerful in care of magical creatures.

He was bouncing on his feet, face pink from the cold and his own excitement.

Harry did not appreciate this, glaring at the bubbly blond over his red and yellow scarf.

“What’s got you so happy?”

Malfoy beamed at Harry, big smile making his eyes crinkle. 

“I just love having classes with you  _ and  _ my friends!”

It had been- what, a month? A few weeks, at least- since the first task, but Harry was still not used to how the spell altered Malfoy’s perception of things.

Harry never got along with Pansy, Blaise, or Crabbe and Goyle, but Malfoy didn’t seem to register this. He just smiled eagerly at them while they scowled at each other and made painful small talk.

“Yeah, they’re great.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Malfoy pouted, in a way that Harry had come to recognize as playful. His real pout was much more subtly than this put out one.

“Come on, I like your friends, why don’t you like mine?”

Harry balked at that. 

“Wait- you like Ron and Hermione?”

Now it was Malfoy’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“No, I just spend hours talking Quidditch with Weasley to punish myself. Come now, Harry, I’m more invested in SPEW than you!”

That was true. Malfoy and Ron talked Quidditch when Harry had worn himself ragged worrying about something or another, and after a few more talks with Hermione, had become an avid fighter for house elves.

_ ‘I don’t want to be a bad person, Harry.’ Malfoy said in tears after speaking with Hermione. ‘I- that’s never what I wanted. I thought- I thought it was normal. That it was okay. Does- does that make me a bad person?” _

_ Harry didn’t know what to say to that. He’d always, on some level, thought that yes, Malfoy  _ ** _was _ ** _ a bad person. But, now? After he’d protected Harry from wayward stares and harsh comments, after he’d screamed at Mcgonagall of all people to keep him safe, after all the time and thought he was genuinely giving the house elves… _

_ ‘No.’ Harry reassured him. ‘You’re not a bad person, just… a little lost. But-’ he couldn’t believe he was saying this- ‘I’m gonna help you get better. Me and Ron and Hermione, yeah?’ _

Well, now Harry was feeling a little guilty.

Spelled or not (and it was getting harder and harder to remember that Malfoy was, in fact, spelled) Malfoy was trying, and Harry owed it to him to try to.

So, when the skrewts lost their damn minds trying to be shoved into boxes, and began to attack everything in sight, he called out to Crabbe for help, instead of Ron.

Blinking in surprise, but not missing the look Malfoy sent him, he trotted over hesitantly.

“What- what do we do?” he asked in his thick voice.

Harry shrugged helplessly. “Tie them up? Try not to die?”

Crabbe didn’t seem to like the sound of that, but, after receiving the rope, leapt onto the skrewt with surprising recklessness. 

“Crabbe!” Harry cried, shooting a blast at the stinger poised over his back. 

As Crabbe tied it up, Harry kept the animal from, you know, killing him.

Pansy and Hermione were after one, Ron and Goyle after another, and Malfoy was standing in the middle of it all, doing nothing but shooting aimlessly.

Or, that’s what he thought Malfoy was doing, until he realized no skrewts were coming after him.

Protective Malfoy, at it again.

Well, Harry certainly wasn’t complaining about the lack of cuts he had, that was for sure.

Finally, all were caught except for one.

“Don’t frighten him now!” Hagrid warned. “We don’t want him getting frightened!”

“Yes, that would be just  _ dreadful. _ ” Blaise said from where he stood, actually doing nothing.

“If he’s frightened he’s going to be more violent, idiot.” Hermione snapped, grumpy from all the burns she acquired. 

“Whatever.”

“Well, doesn’t this look like a ball?” a new voice joined in.

Harry looked over, realizing with a little dread it was Rita Skeeter.

She was leaning against the fence, glasses pressed up against her face with a clawed hand.

Harry shifted uneasily. He didn’t want her getting anything new to write about him.

Malfoy sensed his mild distress, and with the subtlety of the Hogwarts train, marched over to him and enveloped him in his arms.

Rita noticed this, because how could she not, but kept her attention on Hagrid, who was launching onto the last skrewt.

“Who’re you?” Hagrid asked, eyebrows furrowed so low you couldn’t see his eyes. 

“Rita Skeeter, Daily prophet.” she grinned, golden tooth sparkling in the cold sun.

Malfoy hooked his chin over Harry’s shoulder, eyes tracking her every move.

“Thought you weren’t allowed here anymore.” Hagrid puzzled, Skrewt secure. 

Rita bulldozed right past that. “So, what are these delightful little things?”

Harry was almost convinced Malfoy was growling behind him.

“Blast ended Skrewts.” Hagrid’s confusion melted away to pride.

“What funny little things they are!” she cooed. “Where did you get them, hm?”

Hagrid flushed a little at that, and Harry’s heart sunk.

Hagrid hadn’t… bought them illegally, had he? For all Harry knew, Hagrid had created them  _ himself. _

“Oh, you know, good guy I know thought they’d be good for the kiddos.”

Rita nodded. “Yes, I can see why.” her eyes scanned the various injuries everyone but Harry was covered in. Even Malfoy had a few scratches and burns from when he got distracted protecting Harry.

Hagrid didn’t pick up on that.

“Yeah, they’re very interesting, huh? Isn’t that right, Harry?”

Harry flinched.

Shit. 

“Oh, Harry,  _ you’re  _ here!” she grinned at him, reminding him of a snake. “So, you like this class, hm? One of your favourites, would you say?”

“Yes.” Harry announced, nose in the air. “Definitely one of my top three.”

“High praise!” she leaned forward. “Must really be something. I’d  _ love  _ to know more about it, Hagrid. Would you mind speaking with me? Maybe at the Three Broomsticks?”

Harry was about to lose his mind. 

This was an  _ obvious  _ trap, he just couldn’t figure out what the crafty reporter wanted.

But again, Hagrid didn’t catch on. 

Grinning, he planned to meet her later on in the week, and Harry had to resist the urge to scream.

Finally she left, and Hermione pounced.

“You can’t go to that meeting.” she told him firmly. “You can’t.”

“But she jus wants to talk, what’s the harm?” Hagrid pleaded.

“No. it’s not safe, or smart. You’re not going.”

“Come on, ‘Mione. I think I can handle a lil talking to from Rita.” he patted her on the back. “Now, back up to the castle with you all, go get some burn cream.”

“But-”

He shoved her along, leaving her to stumble on the rock hard dirt. “Run along, run along.”

Muttering darkly to herself, Hermione led the group of students back up to the school.

Malfoy was flush against Harry’s back, both still on edge just from seeing Rita.

It was difficult to get him to go to class with how put off he was, but Harry finally managed to convince him by reminding him that if he got detention, they would spend even less time together.

“Fine.” MAlfoy glowered. “But I’m finding you the second class ends.”

“You always do.”

Divination was fun now that he and Ron were speaking again; though, he could do without the premonitions of death Trewlaney kept throwing at him.

Class ended, and, after meeting up with Malfoy, Harry and Ron wandered off to find Hermione, so she could bully them into working.

But she was nowhere to be seen; not the library, not the Great Hall, not the common room, not even the dorms, according to Lavender.

Puzzled, Harry and the other two found themselves outside of Gryffindor tower.

“What- what do we do now?” Ron asked, wringing his hands.

“I’m not- I’m not sure.” Harry bit at his thumbnail nervously. “I- I’m not used to working without her.”

“I’m terrible when I work without her!” Ron exclaimed. “All that time we weren’t hanging out, my grades were at their lowest!”

Malfoy, a diligent student who always got his work done even while doting on Harry, was using his free time to giggle at Harry.

“I can help you study.” he said, pulling Harry’s thumb out of his mouth.

Harry angrily stuck it back in. “No you can’t, you always freak out whenever I get stressed by my work.”

Malfoy shrugged, not all that apologetic. “Sorry?”

“Hmph.” Harry let his head fall on Malfoy’s shoulder. “So- what do we do?”

“Move out of the way before Granger hits you.”

“What?”

Malfoy pulled Harry to the side as Hermione skidded past.

“There you are!” she gasped. She was sweating and panting and had obviously run the whole way there. 

“Whoa, what’s up?” Ron asked, steadying her.

“Come! Come quick!” she grabbed Harry and Ron’s arms and tugged them along. “I have to show you something.”

“Show us what?” Ron yelped.

“Just come see!”

She led them down a winding path through the hallways and stairways of Hogwarts, until they came to a painting of a bowl of fruit.

She reached out, and tickled a pear in the painting gently.

“Have you lost it?” Ron tilted his head. “Is that was this is? Have you finally gone mad?”

To the surprise of everyone but Hermione, the pear turned into a door handle, and she twisted it open.

The painting swung back, revealing what Harry presumed to be the Hogwarts kitchen.

Directly in front of them were five long tables, set up exactly like the ones upstairs, and answering the question of how the food appeared everyday, something Harry had never cared to ask.

House Elves bustled at the countertops that took up the entire left wall, washing pots and pans, and preparing things for the next day.

Prep tables were also scattered across the place, with even more pots and pans, and house elves cleaning up that evening’s meal.

Light poured into the room from the large fireplace at the back, leaving the room dim, but also filling it with warm light.

House elves bowed and curtsied as they passed, dressed in tea towels tied like toga’s with the Hogwarts insignia stamped on them. 

Hermione sped past all this, leading them to the fireplace.

There waited a certain house elf Harry hadn’t seen in roughly two years.

“Mister Potter! Oh, Mister Harry Potter!” Dobby squealed, running up to Harry and throwing his arms around him. “Dobby is so happy you’re here!”

“Dobby?” Harry blinked down at him, green eyes meeting green eyes. “Is that really you?”

“Oh, it is so good to see you, sir.” Dobby smiled up at him tearily. “Dobby has missed you so very much!”

“Yeah, me too.” Harry huffed a laugh, not quite believing his eyes. “Well- tell me what you’ve been up to!”

Dobby went off on a tangent about what he’d been doing the past couple of years, and everyone was paying close attention.

Everyone, except, Malfoy.

Draco backed away slowly from the elf.

Yes, he was genuinely invested in the welfare of house elves, that hadn’t been a lie. 

But… to meet the one his family had abused? That  _ he  _ had abused?

It left a cold feeling in him.

The elf was just- smiling at Harry, like he was the greatest thing in the world, and it broke Draco’s heart, knowing he thought that because Harry had freed him from the Malfoy family.

And Harry’s smile was just as warm and friendly, and Draco had never known that Harry could care like this for something so… small.

Because yes, he wanted them to be treated better, but that was more to soothe his own conscience. 

Now, looking at this elf, how proudly he showed off the ridiculous clothes he was allowed to wear, hearing him talk with such breathless wonder at the fact he had a wage, Draco thought he finally got it.

These- these weren’t justs creatures. They were.. They were living things, that could think, and want, and- and-

Harry laughed and pulled Dobby in for another hug.

And love.

The disgust Draco had been trying to fight off washed over him again.

The creat- the elf, looking at Harry with that soft look, had once looked at Draco with fear.

Harry was so much better than Draco, in every way.

Draco’s hand trembled, so he closed it into a fist.

He was so much better. Why would he ever want anything to do with Drac-

Draco cried out as pain shot through his head.

He grabbed his forehead and knelt on the ground.

Harry has no use for him-

More pain. Something about that line of thinking  _ hurt,  _ physically  _ hurt,  _ but  _ why _ -?

Harry’s arms were around him in an instant.

“Breathe, Malfoy.” he encouraged. “Just- just breathe. You’re gonna be okay.”

Draco leaned into his chest, smearing tears he didn’t know had fallen.

“Hurts.” he grunted, more tears of pain welling in his eyes.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” he ran a hand along his back. “Just breathe.”

Draco took several shaky breaths, until finally the sharpness began to subside.

“You okay?” Harry asked as Draco moved back.

Draco nodded cautiously. “I- I think so. I just got a really bad headache, out of nowhere.”

Harry frowned, concern in his beautiful eyes. “Do you want to go see Madame Pomfrey?”

Draco shook his head. “No, no I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Harry held his hand against Draco’s forehead, as if he could feel the residual pain.

“Hm.” he furrowed his brow slightly, wrinkling his scar. “Well, alright. But if you start to feel bad again, we’re going, okay?”

Draco nodded, a warmth replacing the doubt from before.

“Okay.” 

Harry stood up, helping Draco to his feet.

“Well, we should get going.” Harry held Draco’s elbow steady. “See you later, Dobby, Winky.”

Winky? Draco looked around, and saw another elf in a stained blue dress sniveling miserably.

“Goodbye, Mister Potter!” Dobby waved vigorously. “May Dobby come visit you?”

“Whenever you’d like, Dobby.” Harry smiled at him. “We’ll visit soon, promise.”

Then he was guiding Draco out the door, and up to their bedroom.

It wasn’t that late, most were still out in the common room, which was where they left Hermione and Ron.

“I’m taking him up to bed.” Harry told them. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

They exchanged looks that Draco missed, but let them go with quick goodbyes.

Harry led Draco to their bed, watching him as he collapsed onto the pillow.

“Really, Harry, I’m fine.” Draco assured him, colour returning to his cheeks.

Harry made a doubtful noise and rummaged in his trunk. When he stepped back, he was holding on of his white t-shirts in his hands.

“Here.” he said, tossing it to Draco.

Draco looked at it in confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Wear it, idiot. You can use it as a night shirt.” Harry rubbed the back of his head and refused to look at him. “Thought it might- you know. Make you feel better.”

Draco smiled a little, and then a lot. Whipping off his robe and button up, he slipped it on gleefully and pressed his nose into it. It didn’t matter how long he’d been surrounded by it, it was still his favourite scent in the world. 

Both boys changed into the rest of their pajamas, and then Harry was pulling Draco in for a cuddle, something he’d never done before.

“I’m not a child, Potter.” Draco sniffed, loving the attention. “You don’t have to dote on me.”

“I know, I know.” Harry sighed, breath ruffling Draco’s hair. “It’s just- I dunno. It’s stupid.”

Draco made a funny face, but let it go. “Whatever you say, Potter.”

They fell asleep, legs tangled together, arms around each other, and Harry’s hand, threaded through Draco’s hair, holding his face close to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this owo? Harry... caring for Malfoy?
> 
> interesting uwu
> 
> also yule ball coming up next bitches


	5. A Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeet school is the fucking woooorst lol just kill me.   
y'all would have had this sooner but someone in the comments made me realize that my original version was as romantic as a sack of potatoes so. more romance now? hopefully? and uh yeah

The Yule Ball was a thing.

Apparently.

And he had to attend.

Allegedly. 

With a dance partner.

Arguably.

Harry was very very okay with showing up alone.  _ Very  _ okay.

Because, any other time, he’d have been fine (well, not  _ fine _ , but beared with) having to ask a girl (or boy, since that was a thing he liked, according to Ron/Ginny (and Cedric’s eyes)) to the dance, but that was on the grounds he had a choice.

He didn’t have a choice.

That pissknot (Malfoy had him saying weird swears now) witch had made sure of that the second she spelled Malfoy.

She was no closer to being caught, by the way. Turns out the Ministry had bigger things to worry about than Harry’s dignity. But that was fine. Whatever. See if he cared.

Fuckers.

But that wasn’t the point! The point was-

Malfoy wanted Harry to ask him to the dance.

He hadn’t said it outright, but he wasn’t exactly being subtle about it, either. Otherwise Harry would have had no clue what the blond bastard wanted.

But, now he did. And now he had to ask him.

He wasn’t ready.

“Just breathe.” Hermione coached him. “You can do this.”

“I shouldn’t have to!” Harry snapped, nerves making him crabby. “At the very least he should just assume we’re going together!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of  _ course _ he assumes that. But, Malfoy is a boy of flair. He won’t accept  _ not  _ being formally invited. So, just bite the bullet already.”

“I’d rather bite an actual bullet than do this.”

Hermione swatted him, and he scowled at her.

“Come now, Harold. We’ve been over this a thousand times.”

Hermione was rather disgruntled Harry didn’t have a full name to refer to him as when he was being cowardly or childish, so she’d given him one.

Harry didn’t like it.

“Don’t call me that.” he waved her away from his hair, which she had been trying to fix on and off for the past hour. “And leave it, it has a mind of its own.”

“I think it’s cursed.” she muttered in quiet horror. “Even mine isn’t this bad, and these curls are hell.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware.” Harry sucked in a deep breath. “Alright. I’m doing it.”

Harry was lurking in the doorway just before the fountain, where Malfoy was sitting, chest puffed, expression smug. 

“Good luck.” Hermione wished him as he marched off stiffly. 

It was cold, as to be expected of winter, with frost and snow covering the grounds. Most of the time it was unbearably windy, but that day had been the exception, and thus the perfect time to do it.

Harry shook his head and loosened his shoulders. He could do this. Easy peasy. 

“Here we go.”

Malfoy tried to tame his wildly self satisfied look, but failed miserably, when he saw Harry approach.

“Afternoon, Potter.” Malfoy greeted, eyes glittering like winter jewels.

“Malfoy.” dammit, he was already blushing. No one was even  _ here,  _ Malfoy would say yes  _ no matter what _ , and he was fucking nervous.

“Have something on your mind?” he leaned back slightly, careful not to fall into into the frozen water of the fountain.

“Uh, well.” Harry twisted his hands, red and numb already from the bitter cold. “You see, I um. I was wondering-”

Malfoy nodded encouragingly. 

“Cause, you know. It’s winter break now. And, um. Well. Something happens during winter break. A, uh, a rather formal thing.” he ran a hand through his hair and giggled nervously. “One might even consider it a rather important event. And, um, couples are expected to attend. And. Um. I was thinking-”

“ _ Yes _ ~” Malfoy motioned for him to go on. 

Harry closed his eyes and clenched his fists. 

“ _ WannagototheYuleBallwithme?” _

Even though he was ninety percent sure Malfoy didn’t actually understand what he said, he obviously got the gist as he jumped up, cried ‘yes’, and pulled him in for a kiss.

They were getting easier to deal with. He never returned them, per say, but he did know how to manipulate his mouth enough to please Malfoy.

So, um. He had his date.

It was with a heavy feeling in his gut that he realized he wouldn’t even be allowed the chance to ask Cho out, but maybe that was for the better.

Why risk rejection when he could go with his friend?

That’s what Malfoy was now. A friend. Not an enemy, and  _ certainly _ not his boyfriend, but someone he enjoyed hanging out with.

“So, have you ever been to a fancy dinner?” Malfoy asked as they ducked inside to warm up, rubbing Harry’s hands between his own. Hermione had disappeared, something Harry was quietly thankful for. 

“I’ve served at one?” Harry offered with a shrug.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t the fanciest of dinners; like, it wasn’t at a restaurant or anything, but I’ve cooked and I’ve served for one, so I kinda know what it involves.”

Malfoy wrinkled his nose. “Why the hell were you  _ serving _ ?”

“Because my aunt and uncle asked me too?” that seemed rather obvious, didn’t it?

“What did your guests think when you joined them after? It must have been odd to see a child preparing their meals.”

“I never joined them?” Harry was confused. “I told you, I only worked at them. I’d make the food before the guests came, I’d serve them real quick if there were a lot of components, and then I’d go hide in my room until they left.”

Malfoy rubbed his forehead. “Dammit, Potter. You’re a disgrace. Running as soon as your guests come? What kind of an impression is that?”

Harry furrowed his brow. Why was he being yelled at?

“Hey, it’s not like I had a choice; it was either that or get my ass whooped by Vernon.”

That sent the mood from slightly tense but overall not very serious to  _ ah, so this is tangible fear. _

When Malfoy looked at him, it was  _ scary _ .

“Were you hit? At your home?” his voice was soft, but icy. The torches flickered, casting an eerie shadow across his face. 

Harry froze, arms around himself.

“Um. Not really? He mostly just- yelled a lot.”

Wrong thing to say. Very wrong thing to say.

Not only did he confirm he got hit, but he also implied he got _ verbally _ abused as well.

_ Shit shit shit. Abort _ . 

He actually almost expected Malfoy to hit him, he looked so angry.

So, when the arms came for him, he braced himself for pain.

Instead, he was hugged. Malfoy pressed him tight to his chest.

“Uh, Mal-”

A whimper interrupted him.

“Why the  _ fuck  _ would anyone hurt you?” Malfoy shook violently against the slightly taller boy. “ _ So many people  _ keep hurting you. Snape, that damned dragon, whoever put your name in the Goblet, even  _ Ron _ . But why? You’ve never done a damn thing but  _ help people  _ and all you get in return is fucking  _ pain  _ and  _ mistrust-” _ every other word, if he said anything else at all, was swallowed by his wails.

Harry just stood, stiff.

Fred and George had broken him out of his bedroom. They’d hexed Dudley. Ron and Hermione bashed his family late at night over candy, but. But no one… no one had reacted like this. 

No one heard of what Harry had gone through and  _ cried, _ they were so overwhelmed with the injustice of it all. 

Because that’s what this was. It wasn’t pity tears staining his robes, those Molly had shed for him enough times, and made him feel bitter. This was- this was Malfoy releasing all the pain and- and  _ sadness  _ Harry had felt in his life, but had never allowed himself to show.

Malfoy was feeling all of it for him. Maybe literally; there had to be magic for that, right? Maybe Malfoy was doing it by accident.

“Like, what the  _ fuck?!  _ Your life is just one big giant fucking  _ attack  _ on you, what the hell?”

Ron had insulted Vernon for him. Hermione had mocked Petunia. But no one had ever felt for Harry like this.

He wasn’t mad it hadn’t happened before, he’d never known it was even an option, really.

But, to know Malfoy was filled with Harry’s pain, and it did feel like that, did something to Harry.

“Even the bastards that don’t even fucking know you give you shit! You had to walk through these halls  _ so many times _ , knowing they all hated you, for no valid fucking reason!”

Slowly, as if his arms were made of metal, and Malfoy of glass, he held him too.

“Thank you, Draco.”

That slowed his tears. Snotty, and kinda gross, Malfoy- _ Draco, _ looked up at him.

“What?”

But Harry said no more, he just pulled Draco back into the hug.

Draco sniffed. “Next time someone gives you shit, I’m hexing their ears off. You deserve better than this schools bullshit.”

“I like Hogwarts.”

Draco snorted. “Well, if your home life is as shit as I think it is, I don’t blame you. This place is still shit to you though.”

“Maybe.” Harry shrugged.

“No maybe about it, Potter.” Draco laced his hands together behind Harry’s back. “Whenever you tire of this place, I’m stealing you away to a nice quiet fucking cottage somewhere quaint. And I’ll sell my potions, and you’ll fucking- I dunno harrass the squirrels with your flying, and it’ll be great.”

That- actually sounded nice. 

Harry smiled. 

“Deal.” 

Christmas break was, to Harry’s utter delight, much less emotional. 

Almost everyone fourth year and up stayed for the Yule Ball, as they were the years allowed to attend. Ginny stayed as well, but that was more to escape the loneliness of the empty Weasley house than anything else.

Harry spent his days sprawled on different chairs, losing at chess and, because Draco had insisted on it, taking fancy people lessons.

This entailed of meal times being filled with Harry learning what fork was for what, what spoon was allowed to scoop what, etc etc. Then he was dragged off to an empty classroom (usually they were empty. Sometimes Draco had to chase out couples using the empty space to snog) where he was forced to practice dancing until his feet hurt. Which, okay, didn’t take long, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, Draco was annoying as shit when he was worried about public embarrassment.

“Steady feet, Potter! I won’t have you stepping on me in front of everyone!”

“Honestly, Potter, it’s not  _ that  _ hard, they’re just  _ utensils. _ ”

“You think  _ you’re  _ holding  _ my  _ waist? You’ve already got the height advantage and shitty dance moves, don’t make me suffer even more by letting you lead.”

On and on and on. 

The worst part was, Harry was kind of enjoying it. 

He hadn’t seen Draco like this since he’d helped Hagrid before his date. In control, and in his element. It was nice, to see a hint of what he was like when he wasn’t spelled.

(and he looked kinda cute when he was all fiery and determined but shhh)

It was also down right hilarious to see Jealous Draco every time a girl asked Harry out.

For example, the day before christmas, during breakfast.

Harry knew it was coming. He’d gotten good at recognizing the nervous looks, the forced determination, the awkward walk.

At first, he’d hated it. Now, he thought it was funny. He felt bad for the girls, yeah, but still.

Draco never saw it coming. Ever. He just assumed that whatever girl he’d last harassed was the last one, and moved on unknowingly. 

They were at the Gryffindor table. Draco on his right, Ginny on his left. She was telling Ron, Hermione, and Neville about the intense fight she had with a hufflepuff third year over a particularly nice quill on the moving stairs.

She was a ravenclaw, herself. Petite with gorgeous curls, delicate freckles, and eyes so dark they just took your breath away.

Harry found it hard to believe she didn’t have a partner already.

Maybe she smelled.

Hermione would have punched him for that, but there had to be  _ something. _

She was twisting her shiny hair around her finger, and biting her lip.

She wasn’t an athlete, which Harry had come to realize was his type, so he wasn’t likely to say yes anyways. 

Still, she approached.

“Um, hi, Harry.”

“Hullo,” he greeted politely, putting down his fork. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, um.” her cheeks flushed in a cute blush. “You see, I was wondering, well-”

Wasn’t she just taking her time? Really, she should have known better than to give Draco time to catch on.

“Maybe, oh this is so silly of me, but, would you like to-”

Draco’s eyes opened a fraction wider.

He knew. 

Rising to his full height (and standing on the bench) he glared down at the girl.

“I’m  _ terribly  _ sorry,” Draco drawled. “But are you attempting to ask out  _ my boyfriend  _ in front of me?”

The girl blinked at him, then, to Harry’s surprise, toughened up.

“I honestly thought that was a dumb old rumour. Harry Potter getting with someone like  _ you  _ is laughable.”

Ah, so that was why she didn’t have a partner. She was mouthy. 

Draco bristled. “Someone like  _ me?” _

There it was. His bitchy face.

Harry hid a grin.

“Yes,” a cold smile washed over her face. “Harry deserves someone who isn’t evil.”

Draco flinched, hurt flashing in his eyes.

Wait, that wasn’t funny. That was mean.

Usually, Draco screeched until his face was red and he could barely breathe, hence the hilariousness of it all. 

But the way she was going after Draco seemed to hurt in a way anything the other girls had said hadn’t. 

He couldn’t have that.

“Yes, I can’t imagine he’d want to be with someone with blood as  _ dirty  _ and  _ black  _ as yours-”

It all happened rather quickly, you know. No one could say for  _ sure  _ what went down.

All that anyone knew was that one second the girl was harassing Draco’s ‘evil bloodline’, the next she was on the ground with a thin trail of blood dripping down her nose.

To Harry’s utter astonishment, it wasn’t him who had punched her.

It was Ron.

“That sounds far too much like people hating on Muggleborns for comfort.” he snarled, ears red, tall, lanky form actually looking intimidating. “And I happen to  _ hate  _ people who think like that.”

She gaped up at him. “You- you-”

“And I’ll do it again.” Ron threatened. “Don’t mess with my friends.”

Harry’s heart soared. Ron really did know how to make up for being an ass.

Unfortunately, he also knew how to get himself into detention.

“I’ve got to clean up after the Yule Ball.” Ron groaned when he left MCgonagall’s office. “ _ Without  _ magic. I swear, punch  _ one  _ girl, and suddenly you’re the devil.”

“She deserved it.” Draco ground his fist into his hand. “Fucking bitch.”

“Right? Like, how fucking dare she?”

Ron and Draco walked on ahead, ranting and raving, but Hermione hung back with Harry.

“It’s interesting.”

“What is?” Harry tilted his head.

“Well, I just realized, in all the time I’ve spent with Malfoy working on SPEW, or just doing our homework together while you two slacked off,” Harry looked away at that, “he never once brought up my heritage. He complimented me many times, on my smarts and skill, and never said anything along the lines of ‘despite your parents’.”

“That’s good.” Harry smiled. “He’s learning.”

“Is he?”

Harry looked at her again, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Hermione shrugged. “Maybe it’s nothing, but, we had to talk to him about the house elf stuff, right? Convince him what was right and wrong. But he seems to have come to this conclusion on his own.” she paused. “Or he just doesn’t want to insult me. He hasn’t done it once since he’s been spelled, you know.”

Harry hummed. “Well, he probably wouldn’t see it as an insult, so if he believed it, he’d say it anyways.”

Hermione nodded. “That’s true. So, what do you think it is?”

Harry thought, and remembered something Draco had asked him one night.

_ ‘How much does heritage have to do with ability?’ _

_ Harry looked at him. Malfoy was sitting at the edge of their bed, fingers tracing notes written in someone else’s handwriting. _

_ ‘Why do you ask?’ _

_ Malfoy shrugged. ‘I’m just wondering if having two strong wizard parents makes you stronger.’ _

_ Harry thought on it. ‘Maybe? I don’t think so. Magic isn’t so much about the strength of your magic, but your ability to use it. I mean, my Mum was great at potions, and I’m absolute shit at them.’ _

_ Malfoy laughed, and returned to his work. _

_ “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.” _

“I think he _ is _ learning on his own.” Harry said softly. “I think he’s starting to figure things out.”

Hermione followed Harry’s gaze to where the two were still ranting about the girl.

“Maybe he’ll be a decent person, after all of this.”

And there it was. This wasn’t the real Draco, this was Draco trying to please Harry.

That thought made him feel sick, so he pushed it away.

At this rate, he might never get unspelled, so he wouldn’t worry about it too much.

Oddly, that thought didn’t help much either.

Dammit. 

“So, you ready for the ball?”

Harry perked at the subject change. “No. Draco’s been training me for days now, and I’m still shit at everything.”

Hermione giggled. “At least my date won’t hold that against me.”

Ron, despite being midshout, heard that and turned around.

“WHO ARE YOU GOING WITH?” he bellowed.

“No one!” Hermione shouted back, fighting off a smile.

It had become something of a running joke: Ron trying to figure out who Hermione’s date was. At first, he genuinely hadn’t believed she’d had one, which was very, very awkward.

_ ‘Come on, Mione. You don’t have to lie, no one is going to blame you for not wanting to go with Neville. Nice lad, but pisspoor dance moves.’ _

_ Hermione’s face was red. ‘I have an actual date, Ronald!’ _

_ He blinked at her in disbelief. ‘Really? Who ever did that?’ _

_ Her scream of indignation could be heard from the basement, as could Harry’s howls of laughter. _

After that, he’d become determined to find out who her date was, so he could judge if he was better than Neville.

Hermione, still insulted, had refused to tell him, and thus began two weeks of Ron shouting the question at her in attempts to scare out the answer.

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Hermione announced, walking past him briskly, loosely tied hair swaying behind her.

“I  _ will  _ find out before then!” he vowed. “Just you wait!”

She raised a hand and waved it daintily, disappearing behind a corner.

“Fucking doorknob, that one.” Ron shook his head in dismay. “Probably hallucinated her date. She’ll show up to the ball with a broom, mark my words.”

“Seems more like something  _ you’d  _ do, Weasley.” Draco poked his side teasingly.

“Shut up,” Ron pushed him away, and they wrestled playfully.

Harry remembered when Ron, Hermione, and Neville had fought Draco and some of his friends in first year, and marveled at how things had changed.

Except, not really. Everything that was happening was because of a spell.

Stop thinking like that, Potter. You’re gonna make yourself depressed.

Sorry,  _ more  _ depressed.

Shaking his head minutely, he slid his hand into Draco’s. 

“Come on, let’s go throw snowballs at the Whomping Willow. Bitch deserves it.” 

Draco cackled, and they walked down the hallway to put on gloves and harass a tree.

The spell didn’t matter. Enjoying his day mattered.

His hand squeezed Draco’s lightly. 

He’d worry about- anything else, later.

Dobby had a present for Mister Potter. 

Dobby worked very hard on the patterns, and choosing the yarn, and guessing Harry’s foot size. 

Dobby spent many nights carefully working his needles, perfecting his technique.

Dobby was very proud of the result; a red snitch sock, and a purple broom sock.

Dobby wrapped it as best he could in tissue paper, and it was ready.

Dobby knew he should probably wait to give it to Mister Harry Potter, yes wait until he was awake, but- he was just too excited! And, and Mister Potter said Dobby could visit whenever Dobby wanted, and Dobby wanted to visit now!

He tiptoed into Mister Harry Potter’s dorm room, very early in the morning, yes. Other house elves had already delivered everyone’s presents, that they had. Dobby was almost jealous, he would have loved to tell Mister Harry that he had done it himself, yes that would have been so wonderful, but instead he had to sneak in after.

He creeped up to Mister Harry Potter’s bed, and peeked over the edge, giddy.

His tiny hands flexed around his present for Mister Potter, he was very proud of his work, very proud indeed. 

He leant over Mister Potter, ready to wait until he woke up, when he saw something horrible.

Mister Draco Malfoy, his old master, was in bed with Mister Harry! And he had his arms wrapped around him!

This would not do, Dobby had to save Harry Potter!

He snapped his fingers furiously, and Mister Draco Malfoy seized up and began to flail. His body twitched sporadically, until he fell off the bed. 

Dobby hopped up, careful not to step on Mister Harry Potter, and marched towards him, fingers already twisting his ears with a nasty force.

“You- you shall not hurt Mister Harry Potter!” he stammered a bit, but Dobby’s voice sounded very frightening, yes.

Mister Draco Malfoy shuddered on the ground, gasping for breath and jerking against the stone floor. 

Dobby felt very proud of himself. He’d saved Mister Harry Potter! Oh, he was such a good Dobby-

A hand closed around his throat and he was thrown to the ground.

Dobby squeaked in terror.

“Mister Lucius Malfoy sir! Dobby is so very sorry, sir! Dobby will punish himself!” he wailed, curling in on himself, banging his head against the ground. 

“Wha- Dobby?” Mister Ronald Weasley rubbed his eyes and looked around. “What’s going on?”

Dobby did not move from his position, he just kept beating his head. 

Big, warm hands closed around his wrists, and he was pulled up and pressed against someone’s chest.

Dobby began to sob.

“Dobby is so sorry, sir! Dobby will never do it again, not ever!”

“Dobby, calm down!” Mister Ronald Weasley ordered, and Dobby tried to listen. Maybe if he behaved, he wouldn’t have to punish himself so awfully.

Although, he’d already done something unforgivable. 

Oh, Dobby, you stupid elf! You dumb useless elf!

“Dobby!” Harry Potter roared. “Fix what you did to Draco!”

Oh, yes, Dobby should do that. 

He snapped his fingers, tears pouring from his big round eyes. 

He could hear his former master gasping, ahd Harry Potter whispering things to him.

What was he saying? Why was he mad at Dobby? Dobby had saved Harry Potter!

Harry Potter held Mister Draco Malfoy very carefully and helped him back up onto the bed.

“Dobby, what was  _ that  _ about?” Harry asked, still supporting Mister Draco Malfoy.

“He was attacking you, sir!” Dobby cried. “Dobby was helping you sir!”

Harry Potter rubbed his brow. “No, Dobby, he wasn’t. We sleep together now.”

Dobby had… no idea what Mister Harry Potter meant.

“Sleeping together, sir? But- but why?”

A complicated look flashed over Harry Potter’s face.

“Because we’re dating.”

Dobby was more confused than ever. 

“Dating, sir?” Dobby wrung his hands together. “Why would you ever do that?”

Draco Malfoy shot him a nasty glare, and Dobby whimpered. 

“Listen, Dobby, it’s complicated.” Harry Potter ran a hand up and down Mister Draco Malfoy’s back. “But that’s- he won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“Will he hurt _ you _ , Sir?” Dobby asked, tearing up again. 

“Never.” Draco Malfoy snapped, hand curling around Harry’s. “I would never hurt him.”

Dobby knew that wasn’t true, Dobby had heard Mister Draco Malfoy talking about how much he’d hated Harry Potter before Dobby had left.

Was he tricking Mister Harry Potter?

Hm. Dobby would have to talk to Harry Potter about this later. 

Harry Potter slid off the bed, still holding Mister Draco Malfoy’s hand, and knelt in front of Dobby.

“Draco is my boyfriend, okay? Please be nice.” Harry Potter chewed on his bottom lip. “You don’t have to- trust him, or anything, okay? Just- don’t hurt him anymore.”

Dobby still had his doubts, but when Dobby saw the genuine fondness and care in his uncovered eyes, Dobby knew that Mister Draco Malfoy meant a lot to Harry Potter.

Dobby sniveled. “Dobby just wanted to give Harry Potter his present. Dobby didn’t mean to make a fuss.”

Mister Harry Potter, to Dobby’s delight, perked up at this.

“Really? A present?”

Dobby nodded and gingerly picked up the present. “For Harry Potter.”

Harry Potter grinned, and carefully took it from his hands. “Thanks, Dobby.”

Dobby smiled. “Anything for you, sir.”

Harry Potter opened the wrapping paper eagerly, and Dobby bounced on his toes. 

“Socks?” Harry Potter pulled them out. “Did you make these?”

Dobby nodded vigorously. “Yes sir! Just for you, sir!”

Harry slipped them on without a word and flexed his toes.

“Dobby, they’re great.” Harry Potter gave him a thumbs up. “Ten out of ten, good job.”

Dobby couldn’t hold back his tears (and didn’t really try to) as he threw his arms around Harry Potter.

“Dobby is so glad you like them, Harry Potter, sir!”

Harry Potter patted his back. “Of course I like them, Dobby. And, uh-” he stood up and dug around in his trunk for a moment. “Here! Something for you.”

In his hands were two yellow socks, and Dobby didn’t hesitate to grab them; Ronald Weasley letting him go so Dobby could do so.

“Mister Potter, Dobby is so honoured!” he sobbed. “But, sir, the store has made a mistake! They has given you two socks that are the same!”

Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Guess they have. Do you mind?”

Dobby shook his head. “No sir! Dobby loves them!”

“I’m glad.” Harry said earnestly. 

“Well, sir, that’s all Dobby wanted.” Dobby fiddled with his new socks. “Dobby must get back to work. Merry Christmas, sir!”

“Merry christmas.” Harry Potter waved Dobby off. 

He still didn’t understand why Harry Potter was spending time with Mister Draco Malfoy, but Dobby trusted Harry Potter. Sir was very smart, yes he was, and if he needed help, Dobby would help, yes Dobby would. 

Dobby would always be there for Mister Harry Potter.

Harry’s cheeks were dark with embarrassment. Dobby’s little, uh,  _ visit  _ had woken up all the other boys. They shrugged it off, simply opening their presents since they were awake, but Harry still felt bad. 

He was also concerned for Draco. The seizure Dobby had given him- it left a cold feeling in Harry’s stomach that he resolved by holding Draco’s hand. 

“You okay?” he asked for- probably the fifth time.

Draco smiled and kissed his cheek. “Of course I am. I can’t really say I blame him, anyways.” Draco looked down. “I was- I’ve been horrible to him since I was a child.”

Harry put his chin on Draco’s head. “You’re literally an integral member of SPEW. You’re making it up to him, promise.”

Draco smiled into Harry. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Now, let’s finish with these presents, huh?”

“Try not to get jealous.” Draco’s mouth quirked up into its familiar smirk, and Harry relaxed. 

Harry got a pretty good haul; several boxes of candies, a new Weasley sweater to replace the one Draco had claimed (though he was eyeing this one greedily too…) a book on different flying techniques and, from Draco, a ridiculously oversized hoodie and some stickers he could put on his broom.

“Why do I feel like the hoodie is more a present for you than me?”

“How can you stand being so paranoid, Potter, honestly.”

The rest of the day was a blur. Harry swapped candy with all the other boys, had a rousing argument with Seamus over whether it was ‘carAmel’ or ‘carmel’, and took on all the Weasley siblings with only Draco to back him up in a snowball fight.

He lost. Horribly. 

But that didn’t matter.

What mattered was- and Harry was shocked when he thought this- how good Draco looked in his robes. 

They were dark, with a high collar, and they should have made him look like a prick. 

But they didn’t. 

Instead he just- he looked nice, okay?

Just nice.

Harry blushed, for some reason, and fiddled with the sleeves of his own emerald robe. 

Draco was running his hands through his hair, trying to tame it, and mumbling something about ‘hair magic’.

“I give up, it’s hopeless.” he huffed, pulling away, and Harry almost found himself chasing his fingers. They felt nice. Lots of things were nice, that didn’t mean anything. 

“Does that mean we can go?” Harry was ready to avoid Draco’s scrutinizing gaze, but not ready to receive anyone else’s. 

“Yes, I suppose we can.” Draco’s eyes glittered with excitement, and that quelled some of Harry’s anxieties. 

Arms linked, they walked down to the Great Hall. The space was already crowded with students, all decked up in fancy robes. Harry caught Ron's eye from across the room, waving to him. 

He waved back, awkwardly standing beside a Ravenclaw boy, their hands next to each other but not quite touching.

Harry snorted. Loser. 

Mcgonagall was calling for the Champions by the door, and Draco led a reluctant Harry up to her. 

Harry did a double take when he saw Cedric in his honey coloured robes, but his jaw almost hit the floor when he saw Cho holding his hand, wearing sapphire blue robes. 

Cheeks aflame, Harry had to look away. Two people shouldn’t be allowed to look  _ that  _ good,  _ especially  _ not while they’re standing beside each other. It was unfair. Totally and completely unfair. 

Krum walked up, a dark skinned girl with beautifully curled hair and periwinkle robes smiling beside him.  Fuck, who let all these pretty people in? 

Mcgonagall clapped her hands to get their attention. 

“You all are to wait here, beside the door, while the others enter. You will take your seats at your table, and after everyone has eaten, you will start off the dance.” she informed them, repeating information they’d all heard several times before.

Fleur pouted at the idea of having to wait, but Davies distracted her with stories of all his misadventures at Hogwarts. Apparently, no one at Beauxbatons had ever broken their collarbone after walking through a false door that opened up to the outside of the castle. 

Swarms of students passed them, and Harry tapped his foot impatiently. 

He looked around again, and audibly gasped when he got a closer look at Krums date.

“What?” Draco tried to follow his line of sight. “Oh, yes. I suppose you didn’t know who her date was either. She really got you and Weasley good.”

He was blown away. Hermione had landed Krum!

“Good for her.” he muttered. 

“Good for him, you mean.” Draco nudged him gently. “He has the future Prime Minister of Magic on his arm.”

Harry snickered. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Finally everyone else had entered, and they were allowed in. 

Harry swallowed, his mouth dry, and remembered exactly why he didn’t want to do this.

All those fucking people looking at him. 

Sure, people looked at him a lot, but he was never a fan of giving them an excuse to. 

Sensing this, Draco gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Relax, they just feel sorry for me, coming in here with a man that has a damn nest on his head.”

Harry breathed a laugh, and let his shoulders slump a little. 

The walls of the hall were covered in frost, wreathes, and icicles. Literal fairy lights bounced off the walls, and cast a soft, yellow glow on the overall blue room. 

Dozens of tables were scattered across the hall, and the Champions were led to one at the very end of the room. 

The judges were sitting at the table with them, with Percy replacing Mr Crouch, and Harry couldn’t help frowning at Karkaroff. 

Draco, likewise, was shooting Dumbledore dirty looks. 

But both fell into easy chatter with the other people at their table. Draco and Fleur began talking in bloody  _ french,  _ and Harry almost lost his mind at that. Draco had dozens of hidden talents hidden in him. 

Harry, meanwhile, forced himself into a pleasant talk with Cedric and Cho about quidditch, which Krum joined.

It was actually really cool, talking to someone who played the sport as a profession. Not in a fan way, though Harry couldn’t help but let some of that seep through, but in how it differed from regular quidditch.

Dinner was ordered by telling your menu what you wanted, which amazed Harry, which humoured Draco. 

Forgetting what came after the meal, Harry ate the food speedily, finding it somehow even better than the typical Hogwarts food. The house elves must have stepped up their game. 

When Dumbledore waved the dishes and tables away, letting the band set up on stage, Harry choked on his last bite. 

“Fuck.” he croaked. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s just a dance, Potter. We’ve been practicing for weeks.”

“I’m gonna embarrass us.”

“No more than usual.” Draco smiled. “C’mon, Harry. Dance with me.”

Gulping, he took Draco’s (very soft) outstretched hand, and let himself be pulled onto the dance floor. 

“Nothing fancy, right? Just a sway.” Harry’s hand felt gross and sweaty in the paler boys. 

“Just a sway.” Draco nodded, hand on Harry’s waist. “See? Just a little square.”

“Just a square.” Harry forced his feet into the right spots, stumbling now and then.

“Harry,” Draco scolded. “You’re working yourself up. I wouldn’t be out here on the dancefloor with you if I didn’t think you could do it, right?”

Harry took a shaky breath, seeing Dean and Seamus laughing at him in the corner of his eye.

“R-right.”

Draco pressed their foreheads together so quickly Harry fumbled. 

“I wouldn’t be here period if I didn’t care for you. We’ll make it through this dance, I promise. So, let’s just have fun.”

Harry lost himself in Draco’s eyes for a second, then nodded. “Okay.” 

Draco smiled, and Harry relaxed even more. 

Draco believed in him. He wouldn’t let Harry mess up. 

Draco cared about him.

The thought made him oddly warm, and he couldn’t swallow his smile.

His movements became more eager, more intentional, and soon they were gliding across the floor. 

“There you go!” Draco beamed. “You’re a natural.”

“If that was true we wouldn’t have had to spend two weeks making sure I wasn’t absolute shit at this.”

Draco shrugged. “That was mostly so I could dance with you on my own.”

Harry blushed horribly. “Wh-what?”

He grinned cheekily. “Come on, Harry. This dance has four steps. I just wanted to dance with you.”

His heart began to pound. “Oh.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Draco shook his head, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

Almost- almost too quick. 

Trying to distract himself, he spun wildly. Draco cackled madly, and Harry echoed him. As soon as Harry stopped, Draco spun them, and then they were just whirling out of control, laughing like madmen. 

Mcgonagall broke them up with a furious look on her face, and suggested they go sit outside and ‘cooldown’. Still sniggering, the boys did as they were told.

They could still hear the music from the little snowy garden, and so they spun again, around the fountain.It kept them warm, and Harry’s cheeks ached from how hard he was smiling. 

Draco collapsed into his chest, shaking with giggles, after they had spun so much Harry was convinced he now lived in a constant state of spinning, even when still. 

“Fuck you, Potter.” he hiccuped. “Getting us kicked out on the first dance with your bullshit.”

“You kept it going, I tried to stop!” Harry objected, gaping in amused disbelief. 

“No, this was all you. One hundred percent.”

Harry pulled away, and Draco stumbled, unable to regain his balance.

He shrieked until Harry steadied him again, laughing at him.

“Jerk.” Draco thumped his arm weakly. 

“Maybe.” Harry smirked, clumsily guiding them to the fountain, so they could sit.

The boys slumped into each other, taking a moment to regain their breath. 

“Should we- go back?” Draco asked, slicking his now untidy hair back.

Harry grabbed his wrist gently. “Wait, let me do something. Close your eyes.”

Draco faced him obediently, eyes closed.

Harry paused, admiring how he looked in the moonlight, eyelashes casting shadows on his smooth cheeks.

“Harry?”

Harry shook his head, then got to work.

Draco squeaked when he first felt Harry touching his hair, but allowed him to continue.

After a few minutes of working diligently with his tongue sticking out of his mouth, Harry hummed his approval.

“Okay, you can look.”

Draco opened his eyes, and saw hair dangling in his face.

“What did you do?”

Harry jerked a shoulder. “I’ve never seen you with your hair, like, normal. Even when you didn’t shower for like, three days, or at night. Your hair gel is some strong shit.”

Harry rubbed his fingers together, sticky with the gel residue, but was proud of his work. 

Because of the bang Draco usually let hang down from the rest of his slicked back hair, the left side of his face had more hair covering it, while other strands clung messily to his face.

Harry sighed, feeling himself go soft. 

Draco looked… pretty.

“W-what?” Draco blushed, looking away. “I expected you to laugh.”

“But you look good?”

Shit. Shit shit shit. Had not meant to say that. 

Draco’s face went from a dainty pink to an ugly red instantly, but Harry liked it even more.

“Whatever.”

Looking at him, hair down, cheeks aflame, he looked… different. Not like Malfoy. But like Draco, the kid who wanted to do better by house elves, and didn’t discriminate against muggelborns, and who felt for Harry.

And, that was maybe someone he wanted to kiss.

So he maybe sorta did.

Draco’s lips were soft, and cold, and maybe even a little chapped, but he didn’t care.

He was Draco, and he was someone he was allowed to kiss.

A shock went through Harry where their mouths met, and at first he thought it was just the charge of his first real kiss. 

But then it left that taste in his mouth, that burnt copper and oak wood taste, and he yanked away.

Because that was the taste of magic.

Draco blinked at him in confusion, but Harry didn’t notice.

He covered his mouth with his hand, and resisted the urge to vomit.

Draco was  _ spelled.  _ Everything,  _ everything  _ that was happening between them was the result of a spell. 

The boy in front of him was Draco Malfoy, the asshole who had used the dementors against him, who had almost gotten Buckbeak executed, who had bullied him and his friends.

Nothing was different. Nothing had changed. He was just- not in his right mind.

And Harry had just kissed him. 

Technically, without his consent. 

Oh  _ god,  _ he’d been letting a boy who  _ hated  _ him sleep in his bed and kiss him. That was- Draco  _ definitely  _ wouldn’t consent to that.  _ Ever.  _

Harry was- this was-

He was standing before he knew what was going on. Still dizzy, and now disgusted with himself, the bile left his throat before he could stop it. 

Malfoy called for him, but he didn’t listen. He just walked. Through the ballroom, up staircases, past portraits, with no real destination.

He was disgusting. Malfoy was disgusting, but he didn’t deserve any of that.

A door appeared in front of Harry, and he went in it. He didn’t recognize the room, but it was small, with pillows stuffed against the walls and on the floor. He collapsed into them, tears streaming down his face.

Fuck.  _ Fuck! _

Why the fuck hadn’t anyone done anything? They had just let this happen! 

And he’d let it. Fuck.  _ Fuck. _

Malfoy holding him at night, talking to him, trying to understand him. It was all bullshit.

He didn’t have him. He never would. He didn’t even  _ want him! _

Ah, but that was the worst part.

Because Draco- Draco was someone Harry could want. Could see himself with.

Could see himself caring for. 

Could see himself loving. 

But it was all fake. Fucking  _ all of it _ . That boy wasn’t real. He was made up for Harry to care about. 

That’s what the witch wanted- she wanted to punish Harry. He didn’t know why. No one really had a good reason for hurting him. This was just the world fucking him over again.

But this- nothing had hurt like this.

Fuck. 

He curled in on himself.

Fuck. 

_ Draco’s arms around him, his breath warm on Harry’s neck. _

_ “I don’t think my father is a good man.” _

_ Midnight secrets pulled from pale lips. _

_ “I wish I hadn’t lived that night. I wished I could have died with my parents.” _

_ An eye for an eye, a thought for a thought. _

_ “He hits me.” _

_ “I realized I wanted to die when I was seven; when Dudley forced him to be alone, when Vernon beat me.” _

_ Secrets flow so fast, processed so slow. _

_ “I won’t let your uncle hurt you.” _

_ “I won’t let your father lay a finger on you.” _

_ Reassurance. Legs tangled together. Hearts pounding against each other through touching chests.  _

_ Fingers intertwined.  _

_ “I love you, Harry.” _

_ “Love you too.” _

Harry screamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the book Hermione and Krum talked about SPEW and that is important as shit okay I need y'all to know Krum is a supporter of house elves
> 
> also yes i referred to hermione as dark skinned but no hate to those who don't see her that way like. at first i hc that as a fuck you to JK but then she gave it the okay so. now we have to think things for non political reasons. it's scary, i know, but it will be ok i promise.


	6. snapshots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not actual content? i just felt bad for jumping right into them making up, but i also hate dragging this kind of shit out so... compromise? i tried to make this a compromise.  
(also i dont actually know how to address the consent issue so,,,, gotta think on that a bit more)  
second task coming soon, can anyone guess what's going to happen owo?

Ron wasn’t good with feelings. 

He knew that; he’d certainly been told enough times. 

That said, he also wasn’t (completely) stupid. 

So when Malfoy slept in Harry’s bed alone, crying, and Ron didn’t see Harry for a good few days, he knew something was up.

And he was almost proud of himself for that. 

He tried, to his credit, to talk to Malfo, but the sniveling Slytherin said he had no idea what had happened. 

Ron still didn’t really know how to comfort people, so he sent the blond boy to Hermione, as she was much better at it.

(he was still furious with her for taking  _ his  _ celebrity crush to the dance, by the way, but Malfoy needn’t suffer because of that)

Then he’d tried talking to Harry.

Dead eyes stared him down, and all he got was a curt “piss off’, so he gave up on that, too. 

Harry took to sleeping on one of the couches, until Malfoy tried to join him. 

Then, he did something that honestly left Ron speechless, and kinda pissed.

He kicked Malfoy out. 

Ron walked into the common room to find Malfoy clutching his clothes, begging, Harry to let him stay, hiccuping with how hard he was crying.

Ron went off on him, yelling till his face was red, and his throat was scratchy, and everyone in the castle had heard him, but Harry didn’t say anything.

He just… walked away. 

Which would’ve been shitty on its own, but Malfoy was fucking _ spelled.  _ The fucker couldn’t go too far from Harry without having an actual breakdown; Ron had seen it.

He’d tried to escort Malfoy to his old dorm room when he collapsed against the wall and began retching. 

“Malfoy!” Ron exclaimed, hands shooting out but not knowing where to put them. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Trembling against the cobblestone, Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but gagged again instead. 

He was pale(er than normal) shaking violently, and sweating like he was standing in fucking flames.

“Jesus shit!” Ron patted his back, panicking loudly. “What- what do you need?”

Malfoy just collapsed against him, dry heaving into his robes.

It was weird, seeing Malfoy so vulnerable. He was always a tough piece of shit; Ron almost felt bad seeing him so… defenseless. 

Guess that was why Harry let him do what he did.

But what changed?

Ron didn’t know.

Malfoy’s friends didn’t know, though they all looked ready to tear Hogwarts apart to find out the answer.

“I’ll kill Potter.” Pansy murmured with honestly frightening determination. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

Ron didn’t have much contact with Malfoy after that; he mostly stayed in his bed, according to Pansy, trying to 'not die', as she put it.

Pansy said he was getting worse and worse, but Harry didn’t seem to care.

And, on top of all of this, Rita Skeeter had printed an article about Hagrid being a half giant, which, okay,  _ what the fuck?  _ Half  _ giant? _

So Ron was dividing his time between screaming at Harry, helping Hagrid, worrying about Malfoy, and catching up on the homework he’d neglected.

Everything was going great. Everything was just- just mcfucking peachy.

Yeah. 

February was getting close. Far too close, if you asked Hermione.

She’d bet her right arm Harry hadn’t touched his egg, especially after the Ball. She was getting increasingly concerned for him; he’d stopped eating, he didn’t go to class (how could he just  _ not  _ go to class??) and she honestly couldn’t say where he was most of the time. 

It was unsettling to see him like this. She couldn’t stand it. She’d  _ just  _ got everything normal again, with him and Ron, and now he was having  _ another  _ crisis? And why was Draco suffering for it?

Harry had never hesitated to do whatever Draco needed to feel better, and now he was blocking him off? 

It didn’t make any sense at all. And she hated it when things didn’t make sense.

She asked around to see if anyone saw anything at the Ball, but no one could give her any good information. They all just said the boys got kicked out for spinning, which,  _ of course  _ they did, Harry probably got kicked out on purpose to escape the prying eyes.

Unfortunately, he succeeded, so now the only person who fully understood what happened that night was an emo mess.

Hermione couldn’t stand emo messes.

So, she did something she wasn’t proud of. 

She asked for Fred and George’s help.

They captured Harry in the middle of the night, threw him in the Great Lake, and threw eggs at him. 

At the very least, it should have pissed him off enough to snap out of his funk, even just a little bit. 

Instead he climbed out of the water like a sad little kitten, shaking and shivering, before walking back up to the castle.

Even the twins were humbled by that. 

So, Hermione didn’t know what to do. She was lost.

Honest and truly lost.

And she felt  _ awful.  _

Pansy was serious about killing Potter. What he was doing to Draco… it was unforgivable. 

And the fact that the only way to fix it was for Draco to go back to him infuriated her. 

He deserved  _ so  _ much better than that- that ignorant brat with a hero complex.

She was tempted, some days when she saw him in the halls, to drag him down to the Slytherin dorm rooms, march him up to Draco’s bed, and let him see exactly what his selfishness was doing to her friend. 

He was suffering.

He struggled to keep any food down, he was slipping in and out of hallucinations, and he was tossing and turning constantly due to hot and cold flashes.  He could never sleep for long, just dosing in out of consciousness before waking up sobbing.

After a few weeks he actually ended up in the hospital ward.

And it was all Harry Potters fault. 

That motherfucker. 

How  _ dare  _ he think his own selfish wants were above the well being of her friend? He was supposed to be this great big  _ hero,  _ and he couldn’t even keep the one who needed him the most safe!

That snot dicked ball choker. 

Pansy hated him. She hated him, and she wanted him to suffer for what he’d done to her friend.

She just had to find out the perfect way to get at him. 

_ Draco was good at art magic. _

_ Harry didn’t even know that was a thing. _

_ The way his eyes lit up when Harry asked him to show him how to do it… well, it was kinda cute. _

_ But only kinda.  _

_ He made fairies fly across the page, deer cross streams, and Harry fly into walls. _

_ ‘Hey!’ Harry cried, offended, reaching for the paper. _

_ Draco cackled and held it close to his chest. “It’s mine now, Potter. You’ll never take it back.’ _

_ ‘Fine.’ Harry huffed. ‘Then I’ll just take these.’ and he grabbed the other drawings. _

_ Genuine panic flashed in Draco’s eyes when he did that, and he blurted. ‘Don’t rip them!’ _

_ Harry slowed his movements, placing them down gently.  _

_ ‘I wasn’t going to, Draco.’ he promised, reaching for the others wrist. ‘I actually wanna hang them up, behind the bed. Think they would like nice.’ _

_ Draco’s fear melted away into the brightest smile Harry had ever seen. “Really? You think they’re that good?” _

_ “Of course?” Harry cocked his head. “You’re a good artist, Draco.” _

_ Draco looked away, face flushed, smile fighting to take over his face. _

_ Draco looked so… startled, and happy, that it almost broke Harry’s heart. _

_ Tilting Draco’s head up, he looked him in the eye. _

_ “You’re a good artist, Draco.” he said again. _

_ Draco shook slightly under his fingertips, beaming with joy. _

_ ‘Thanks.’  _

_ ‘Fuck!” Harry slammed his parchment paper on the table. “I’m never going to get this!” _

_ Draco looked up from his own work. “What’s wrong?” _

_ When Harry first yelled at his homework, Draco had reacted with panic. Now, he just calmly tried to assess the situation.  _

_ ‘I fucking hate potions!’ Harry snarled, seething at his work.  _

_ Draco hooked his head over Harry’s shoulder and looked down. _

_ ‘Oh, this stuff? It’s easy if you know the code.’ _

_ ‘Code?’ Harry’s tone was biting, but Draco didn’t flinch. ‘What fucking code?’ _

_ ‘You know, all active ingredients have this in common, all powder ingredients have this… my mother taught me when I was young. Want me to teach you?’ _

_ Still growling, Harry nodded stiffly. _

_ They worked on it for the rest of the night, and by morning Harry…. Actually knew what he was doing. _

_ ‘Thank you.’ he muttered into Draco’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry I yelled at you.’ _

_ ‘S’okay, I know how you get when it comes to potions.’ Draco ran a soothing hand through his hair. ‘And I know it’s mostly because Snape’s a prick.’ _

_ ‘He’s a fucking bastard.’ _

_ Draco grinned, half moon talking up his face. ‘Yep, he’s a real gob wanker.’ _

_ Harry chuckled weakly, and smiled up at the blond. ‘I like that one. I’m stealing it.’ _

_ ‘That will cost you thirty knuts.’ _

_ ‘Thirty knuts! Don’t I get a discount?’ _

_ ‘That is the discount.’ _

_ Harry was the big spoon. He didn’t like having someone behind him; he couldn’t see what they were doing, and it made him nervous.  _

_ Draco didn’t mind, he was happy to do whatever. _

_ Harry’s face was pressed into the back of Draco’s head, and as his breathing got slower and slower, he took in more of the comforting scent.  _

_ His arms were around Draco’s torso, which was just a bit more muscular than his, the bitch, and their fingers were interlocked. _

_ Harry had one of Draco’s legs clamped between his, Draco’s other lying over top.  _

_ Draco didn’t snore, unlike Ron, but he did make little whispery breaths, as he slept with his mouth open. _

_ They were kind of nice. _

_ Harry closed his eyes, and relaxed even more.  _

_ It was nice, sleeping and feeling protected. He’d felt safe as he’d slept before, he rarely ever felt like he was in danger in his Hogwarts bed, but here he felt like someone was actively watching over him. And, as someone who’d woken up to unfortunate circumstances too many times, it was nice.  _

_ He almost found himself dreading when Draco would leave. Then he’d be alone again, have to look out for himself by himself.  _

_ But for now, he had someone. _

_ And he’d take for now.  _

Harry slept in his empty bed, tossing and turning, tearful eyes and cracking voices calling for him in his dreams.

He reached his hand out, fingers stretching across the mattress, searching.

In Draco’s bed, as he found himself slipping into one of those not-sleeps, he reached out too, clammy hand opening and closing desperately.

Had they been in the same bed, they would have touched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also im a terrible person for skipping over Hagrids struggles with the article, in the book Harry was genuinely fucking livid and it was so fun to read, but. we have our own crisis im sorry big wild man. i still love you


	7. Figuring Things Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> me? posting? apparently. lmao sorry for taking so long, went through a bit of a crash, but new meds are really helping :p. enjoy me loving Supportive Cedric and merpeople!

How Harry ended up in the prefect's bathtub, sitting in bubbly water, still wearing his uniform and miserably clutching the golden egg to his chest, Harry couldn’t tell you.

Heck, _ Cedric _couldn’t tell you, and he was the one who had led him there.

Cedric, at the very least, had removed most of his clothing and was sitting in his underwear beside Harry. 

Neither of them had said anything for a while, and Cedric was absently rubbing his wrinkly fingers together. 

This was. This was frickin awkward. 

Cedric wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He was pretty darn surprised when Harry agreed to go with him in the first place; word on the street was Harry had been distant to everyone. 

With that in mind, he didn’t want to waste this opportunity to help him, but he was kind of… a potato, at the moment. 

Cedric cleared his throat, and the sound echoed off the walls, making him squirm.

“So, Harry.” Cedric scratched the back of his head, getting foam all over it. Gross. 

No response. Harry’s glasses were fogged over from the hot water, and he hadn’t moved in a while, but Cedric was pretty sure he wasn’t sleeping.

Pretty sure. 

“Uh,” he cleared his throat again. “I know what to do with the egg, but do you wanna try and figure it out?”

Harry stiffly dropped the egg on Cedric’s lap (ow) then returned to slumping against the bath wall. 

Well, this was. Something?

“No, Har,” Cedric sighed. “You gotta- the egg goes underwater, and then you hear what you’re supposed to do.”

Harry took the egg back and ducked under the water.

Cedric sat uneasily, twisting his hands together.

He didn’t know how to help Harry.

Sure, he knew how to help him with the egg thing, sorta, but with the weird depression thing?

He’d need to know more about what was going on to even _try _and tackle that. 

Cedric sighed, sliding lower into the water.

What was taking Harry so long?

Wait. 

Cedric yanked him out and gave his back a heavy thudding. 

The dark-haired boy spat and sputtered, hacking on water trapped in his lungs.

“Merlin, Harry!” Cedric gasped. “Were you _ trying _to kill yourself?”

Harry shrugged and adjusted his glasses. “I forgot to take a breath.”

“Merlin’s boots you’re mad.” Cedric shook his head in dismay. “What’s been with you? You’re acting- well, you know how you’re acting. So what’s it, huh? What’s the matter?”

Harry went still again, eyes on a bubble mountain, and Cedric realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere asking him so bluntly.

So, he changed tactics.

“Those dragons were absolute bollocks.”

Harry’s head tilted at that, but he didn’t say anything.

“I mean, _ dragons _ ?” Cedric exclaimed dramatically. “You want sixteen-year-olds to go against _dragons_? It took five bloody fully-trained wizards to subdue them, and we’re supposed to slip in and nick what they think is their egg! It’s madness.”

A flicker of the mouth. A smile?

“And yes, I _ am _still bitter that scaly little buttface burned me! No one else gets injured- well ‘cept you, of course.” Cedric gasped and leaned in. “Think they’re conspiring against Hogwarts?”

A small eye role. “They gave me a ten, dingbat.”

“A cover-up, then,” Cedric grinned, eyes sparkling. “They hurt us but let us win anyways.”

“Of course they would do that.” Harry tsked. 

“They just gonna drag our dead bodies through this thing and put crowns on our corpses.”

“_My _dead body, you mean.” Harry corrected. “You’re too pretty to die.”

Cedric pulled away, covering his blush.

It wasn’t every day you got called pretty by The Boy Who Lived, after all.

Harry poked his chest. “And I’m not just saying that. You’re pretty, Cedric.”

Cedric blushed harder. “Oh?” 

Harry nodded sternly. 

Things got quiet for a moment; Cedric tried to calm his beet-red face, and Harry sat in thought.

“I don’t want to date Malfoy.”

Cedric tilted his head. “You’re not, not really.”

Harry tightened his hold on the egg.

“But he acts like we are, and he’s so-” Harry’s face twisted into something ugly, “_ nice _and _caring _and- he’s what I’d want. In a partner. But that’s not _him _it’s that fucking _spell _and it’s-” Harry faltered. “It’s messing with my head.”

Cedric softened with sympathy. He couldn’t imagine what that was like; he had no rivals himself, but he could imagine it wasn’t easy.

“Maybe you could try being just friends with him,” he suggested.

“He’d never go for that.” Harry rolled his eyes. “He’s convinced we’re in love.”

“Well, this is your first relationship, right?” Cedric prodded.

Harry blushed but nodded.

“So, you’re new to all this stuff. You could explain that to Malfoy, say you got overwhelmed, and want to stick to being good, less touchy-feely friends.”

Cedric could have sworn he saw tears in Harry’s eyes, but then he blinked and they were gone. 

“I still might fall for him.”

Cedric put a comforting hand on his soggy shoulder and stared earnestly into his eyes. “Breakups are never easy.”

Harry stared at him, green eyes big and round, and then snorted.

“Breakups?” he hiccuped, still laughing. “Fuck, you’re right, that’s exactly what it's going to be like.”

The laughter turned into giggles, which turned into cackling, which turned into him crying on Cedric’s shoulder.

“Fuck me.” Harry pulled away, rubbing his puffy red face. “I really am a mess, aren’t I?”

“Just a smidgen.” Cedric smiled when Harry giggled again. 

“Thanks for the honesty.” he droned, eyes still sparkling. “And uh, for everything else, too.”

“Anytime,” Cedric promised. 

“So, uh, talk to me about the egg?”

Harry knew he had to focus on the Second Task. That, if he did have to swim in the Great Lake, he’d need some complicated spell to help him do it, or he’d lose instantly.

That said, he couldn’t get his mind off Malfoy.

His talk with Cedric, and the several follow up talks after, had solidified Harry’s resolve. He would meet up with Malfoy again. They would get a bigger bed, so they didn’t have to be on top of each other, and they’d stick to hand-holding. No more kisses, or draping over backs, or anything like that. 

Hugs were acceptable. 

So, that wasn’t the issue. He was confident that those things would keep Malfoy from feeling ill, and, consent wise, didn’t cross the line. 

So, again, not the issue. 

The problem was actually going to _see _him.

Harry was terrified. 

Not of how Malfoy would react, he was spelled to like him no matter what but, Pansy?

Pansy… was a whole other issue.

Not to mention Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise, who patrolled the hospital wing 24/7, scaring away anyone they didn’t want near Malfoy. 

So. Harry didn’t know how to approach that. 

Or the Second Task, because how the hell was he supposed to stay underwater for an hour?

Could he magic himself gills? No, that was ridiculous. Grab a snorkeler? No, he’d never used one before.

Hell, Harry couldn’t even swim!

Taking Harry to the pool had never even crossed his aunt and uncle’s minds. He just sat in the sweltering house while they went somewhere nice to cool off. 

How the hell was he supposed to do this, then? What- did they want him to take _swimming lessons_?

Well, basic survival skills would have him dog paddling, right? But how was he supposed to get to the bottom of the bloody lake _dog-paddling_? 

He’d have to know how to dive, right? Was that hard? Was it hard to force yourself down in the water? Was it hard to stay down?

Shit. Why hadn’t the judges thought about this?! Not everyone could swim!

Thank fuck for Ron, though. Ron knew how to swim. Ron could teach him.

Where they even friends still? Harry would have to apologize, wouldn’t he?

He did. Ron accepted.

Ron was a terrible teacher. But that was fine! He knew the basics now. He could do this. 

He could also go see Malfoy. Harry believed in himself. He could do it!

He didn’t do it.

But that was fine! He would see him after the Second Task. 

When was that?

Startling himself awake, Harry panicked for a second, not recognizing his surroundings. Then it all clicked in, and he relaxed onto the table he’d been drooling on. That was right, he’d been studying in the library, trying desperately to find a spell that would help him.

He hadn’t. 

With a groan, he hit his head on the table. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck _ fuck. _

What the hell was he going to do?!

“Mister Harry Potter, sir.”

Harry flinched violently, falling off his chair. 

“Fuck me,” Harry rubbed his sore bottom and squinted at whoever called for him. “Dobby?”

“Yes sir, Dobby has come with a very special present!” Dobby grinned, revealing ugly, yellow teeth.

“Oh?” Harry righted himself, sitting on the chair again. “What is it?”

“This!” with a flourish, Dobby presented…. Slimy plants.

“Uh, what is it?” Harry wrinkled his nose at the smell. 

“Gillyweed, sir!” Dobby announced proudly. “It will help you breathe underwater.”

Harry perked right up at that. “Really? You’re sure?” 

Dobby nodded vigorously. “Absolutely positive!”

“Dobby that’s- that’s amazing!” Harry’s face light up with joyful relief. “You’re a lifesaver, honestly.”

Dobby blushed and turned away. “Oh no sir, Dobby is just helping Harry Potter they way he helped him.”

“Well, thanks.” Harry rubbed his head. “I’ve gotta- shit I’ve gotta go get ready.”

“Yes you do, sir. The task is in ten minutes.

Harry’s eyes bulged out of his head.

“Ten _ minutes? _” 

“Yes sir!”

“Fuck.” Harry tugged at his hair. “Okay- how does the gillyweed work?”

“You have to eat it, sir.” Dobby informed him, holding it out, and Harry grimaced.

Of course he did.

“Okay, thanks.” he snatched it and bolted from the library, almost smashing face first into the wall beside the door.

“Good luck, Harry Potter!” Dobby called. “Dobby is rooting for you!”

Harry flew down the stairs, barely touching them. He fell a few times, but immediately got back up and kept going. 

In the Great Hall he saw a few stragglers were heading out, and many screamed in alarm as Harry bulldozed past them. His feet thundered against the grass as he charged towards the stadium standing proud before the lake. 

The other Champions were stood on a wooden plank separate from the spectators, and Harry jumped onto it, sending it rocking and the others stumbling, but he was _ there _, and that was what mattered.

Fleur shot him a nasty look, but Cedric shot him a small smile, helping Harry to relax a little. 

“What took you?” Percy snapped in a bossy voice. “We have a schedule to uphold!”

“Now, now!” Bagman chided. “Let the boy catch his breath!”

Percy sputtered angrily, but Harry ignored him. His side ached something awful, his lungs were burning, and he was wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing for two days now. 

Everyone else was dressed in proper swim wear, and Harry scowled. If he’d had the sense to wake up at a proper time, he would too. 

“You ready?” Bagman asked, patting his back. 

Harry nodded and straightened up. 

“Alright then. The Champions are ready!” Bagman announced, magnifying his voice. “They have one hour and one hour only to retrieve what was taken from them! Ready? Three… two… one… _ GO!” _

Harry choked down the gillyweed and flopped pathetically into the water.

It was cold as shit and dark as hell. Harry’s body seized up, and his already sore lungs worked overtime to preserve the little air they still had. 

Then, the outside of his throat started to burn. 

This was a new and awful feeling, but it got Harry moving. 

He flailed, sinking deeper and deeper into the water, genuinely concerned he was going to die like that.

Then his fingers did- something, and his feet did too, and he remembered last minute to kick his shoes off. 

After shuddering and jolting, everything finally calmed down, and Harry opened his eyes. 

He only knew they were open because, instead of the black from before, he saw fish darting around, the sand far below him, plants littering the ground- basically, he could see in the water.

His neck also _ pumped _which was- he didn’t like it. His throat also flooded with water every few seconds via the sides of it, but instead of choking him, he found himself breathing. 

His hands paddled in front of him, and he saw they were webbed. Great. 

So, gillyweed turned you into a weird fish person. Great.

Whatever, it would work for his purposes. 

Testing his webbed hands (and feet) he slowly made his way through the water. He built up more confidence as he swam, and started going faster, and deeper. 

If this was what swimming was like, he wouldn’t mind doing it more.

He dipped dramatically, skimming through a forest of kelp, and smiled.

This was- this was kind of nice. 

Then the fucking weed wrapped around his foot and yanked him down. 

Harry released a shocked flurry of bubbles out of his gills, and looked down. 

Yep, the plants were attacking him.

They wrapped around his neck, and his torso, and his arm, but he still had his-

_ Wand hand! _

Damn, was he stupid. 

He whipped it out and tried to shout _ relashio _, but no sound came out. Thankfully, it still worked, and he broke free. He swam up and away, flipping off the mean greenery. 

He kept going, grumbling to himself, but the farther away he got, the more he relaxed.

Soon he was swimming peacefully again, and it was- getting kind of boring. 

Like, yay. More sand. More grey fish. Whoo hoo.

He started swimming with his eyes closed, which was a mistake, because he slammed into a large rock.

Rubbing his head, he growled (silently) at the large, carefully carved stone that had attacked him. 

Looking around, he saw more like them. What was this about?

He cautiously swam between them, eyes sharp and alert, thanks to the glasses he was still wearing.

After swimming a ways, he began to see bigger stones that were covered in black marks. 

Looking closer, he saw they were windows. Tiny, sharp toothed and scaly faces peered out at him, making what he hoped were smiles at him. 

He kept going, weaving around them, occasionally waving. 

Obviously, they were merfolk. Not the pretty kind you were used to seeing, but there was something uniquely interesting about how they looked. 

They weren’t beautiful or anything of the sort, hell, they were kind of ugly, but not in a bad way, if that made sense. 

They swam out of their houses, giggling at him and darting up to him, just to dart away. Their parents hung back, clutching spears and eyeing him warily. 

One particularly bold child swam right up to his face, and blew bubbles at him through his gills. 

Harry did it back, but awkwardly, and with less force. 

The merchild giggled, and swam away. 

A group of merpeople led him indirectly to the town square, and he had to swim above them a ways to see what they had all gathered to look at. 

It was four people, bound to stakes.

Harry gasped horrified. 

What- what the hell was _ this? _

Looking closer, Harry realized he recognized the people closest to him. 

One was a young girl he’d seen hanging around Fleur, and bared a shocking resemblance. The second was Hermione?

Harry began to panic. Was _ this _ what he was supposed to collect? His friend? To stop her from _ drowning _?

Harry swam towards her, yanking on the rope holding her, when a tall merman yanked him away.

“What are doing?” Harry snapped, hoping he would be heard.

The merman shook his head. 

_ Not yours. _

Harry balked at the voice that seemed to flow into his ears. It wasn’t like normal talking, it was like- liquid words.

“What do you mean ‘not mine’?” Harry barked, getting frustrated. He didn’t know how much time he had left, and he had to make sure she was safe.

The merman pointed to someone further down the line.

Harry’s eyes landed on Cho, and he was confused, because why her? Yeah, he had a crush on her, but she wasn’t ‘what he missed most’.

Then he looked farther down. 

Sunken cheeks, dark eyes, and wispy blond hair.

There was only one person it could be. 

Eyes that _ definitely _ weren’t filling with tears blinked furiously. 

Damn lake water, getting in his eyes. Making them sting. 

Harry hadn’t wanted to reunite with Malfoy. Not like this. 

Looking at him, head lulling in the water, strands of hair dancing around his face... he couldn’t bear it. 

He swam up to him slowly, and let webbed fingers trail along his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Malfoy looked horrible. Too skinny, too sickly, too lifeless. All because of Harry. 

Already, though, he could see the effect him just being there was having. 

Malfoy’s skin turned from ashy to its normal pale tone, and his overly skinny body seemed to return to a normalish weight. 

It was astounding to watch, and gut-wrenching. 

Harry was glad he’d taken the time to think, to sort things out, because it was important he did what was best for the both of them in the long run.   
But- but he shouldn’t have done it the way he did. He shouldn’t have hurt him like that. 

Harry hugged his limp body awkwardly, gills breathing shakily. 

He would fix this. And he would fix it today. 

How to get him free, though?

Harry’s eyes darted around. Was there a sharp rock, maybe? 

Wait, the merpeople! 

He swam up to one of them and asked for their spear. They shook their head.

_ We cannot help. You must do this on your own. _

Harry turned his back on them furiously. Of course they couldn’t. 

Okay, back to the rock plan. 

He darted down to the sand and grabbed a particularly jagged one.

Swimming back up, he began to hack away at the rope. 

It was a long process; he had to make sure he didn’t cut Malfoy, and his hand got nicked with every stroke. It was also starting to cramp, but he pressed on. He had to get Malfoy free. 

As he was working, Cedric swam up, a bubble around his face distorting it hilariously. 

Cedric waved at him, and his eyes went wide when he saw Malfoy.

Harry nodded, grimacing.

Cedric gave him a sympathetic look, then freed Cho with a spell Harry couldn’t hear. 

Ah. Of course. 

He swam off, Cho in tow.

Next to come was Krum. 

Or, what Harry assumed to be Krum. 

What swam up was a horrifying shark/human hybrid, that snapped the rope around Hermione with one bite.

Then his fin hands, which looked weirder than Harry’s, wrapped around her, and he too swam away. 

That left Malfoy and the girl. 

Harry kept up the slow process, anxiety starting to creep upon him. 

How long would this take? Would he be too late?

Where was Fleur?

That thought was really starting to eat away at him. 

He kept seeing the girl out of the corner of his eye; hair so similar to Malfoys, but longer, and her face much smaller. More innocent. 

Harry felt a bitterness wash over him that surprised him.

They’d forced this little girl to the bottom of a lake in a country she was foreign too, all on the hope Fleur could find her. And, it wasn’t really Fleur's fault if she couldn’t- the lake was huge. But what if the girl didn’t see it that way? What if Fleur didn’t come? And she felt worthless, abandoned?

What if she died?

That did it.

With one last slash, Malfoy was free. Arranging him awkwardly in a piggyback, Harry swam for the girl. 

The merman from before swam in front of him again. 

_ Only one. _

Harry whipped his hand out and gave him his fiercest glare. 

“Try me.”

The merman zipped away with more speed than Harry expected, but he didn’t really care about that. 

He swam towards the girl and began the long process of freeing her. 

Sometimes mermen would come up to try and stop him, but Harry always scared them off without doing any real harm. 

Just as he was starting to lose feeling in his hand, he remembered _relashio. _

If he used it on the rope on the back of the pole, he ran no risk of hurting her. 

Cursing himself for his eternal stupidity, Harry did just that. 

That show of magic was all it took to scare off the merpeople, and Harry was completely alone with the two blondes. 

Locking the twos legs in some weird puzzle, one arm around the girl, the other tugging Malfoys collar to ensure he stayed on his back, Harry swam up.

As he neared the surface, he realized he could have carried them under his arms, one on each side, but whatever. This was what he was doing. With one last big kick, he broke through to the surface, wheezing as he adjusted to breathing with his lungs again.

The merpeople popped up with him, and he feared they were coming to attack him, but they were smiling again. 

The crowd was roaring in front of him, and he wasn’t really sure why, but the little girl had opened her eyes, and he beamed at her. 

“Hullo,” he greeted, “you alright?”

She nodded shyly, turning away. 

“Merci beaucoup.”

“Anytime.” Harry grinned, having no idea what she said. 

On his back, he heard Malfoy mumbling, and almost snapped his neck turning to face him. 

“Malfoy? Draco? Are you all alright? Are you hurt?”

“M fine,” he mumbled, nuzzling into Harry. “Cold.” 

Harry laughed, high and breathy. “Me too.”

The girl broke away, swimming awkwardly for the stage, and Harry followed. 

She got up first and helped pull Malfoy up. 

Malfoy whined when he left Harry, but Harry quickly hauled himself up and held him again. 

Malfoy’s eyes groggily opened, and the way he blinked at Harry was rather ugly. 

Malfoy was always ugly when he woke up. It was one of Harry’s favourite things about him. 

“Hi.” Harry murmured. 

Malfoy grumbled something that could be a greeting and ran a hand along his neck. 

“The fuck are these~” Malfoy slurred.

But Harry could already feel the gills retracting, and his hands turning to normal; a much less painful experience than when they grew. 

“Nevermind.” Harry took his hand.

They sat there for a moment, looking at each other, the bags under Malfoy’s eyes receding, Harry’s eyes softening-

When Fleur flung herself onto him, sobbing. 

Harry wobbled, now supporting two people.

“Oh _ Harry!” _she sobbed. “You saved her! You saved Gabrielle!”

“Huh?” Harry, the forgetful fool, asked.

Fleur pulled away, wiping tears from her face. 

Her hair was drying in a ponytail on her head, and she had a towel wrapped around her shoulders. 

“Gabrielle! My sister,” she explained. “I got caught by the uh- the- the grass! The grass grabbed me, and I couldn’t get out, so I quit, but I was so scared-” her eyes watered again. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I uh, got nervous when I didn’t see you, so I um. Grabbed her.”

“You’re so kind!” she praised. “We appreciate it very much.”

Harry opened his mouth to tell her it was no big deal, but then a towel was being wrapped around him, and Malfoy was pried from his hands. 

Harry grabbed desperately for him, and a voice above his head chortled. 

“Let me wrap him up before he gets a cold, mercy.” 

Madame Pomfrey wrapped the blond up with a fond look, and Harry guiltily remembered she’d been taking care of the other teen for- what, two weeks? Three?

She placed him back in his arms, and Harry was surprised by the complete lack of malice in her kind eyes. 

She seemed to pick up on that and smiled reassuringly. “I’ve seen my fair share of love spells. I know it’s not easy.” her expression turned stern. “But be good to him, yeah? He’s been through a lot.”

Harry swallowed around the newly formed lump in his throat and nodded. 

She smiled again, and backed away. 

Bagman started announcing what the Champions did during the task, but Harry had gotten good at tuning him out. 

Instead, he helped Malfoy sit up on his own, and took his cold hands into his own, freezing hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, faces close to each other so they could hear over the din of the crowd. “I got- I’ve never had a relationship before, and we were moving so fast, and I got scared. I’ve never kissed someone before. And I know you’ve kissed me, but, that was me doing it. And I got scared. And us sleeping in the same bed, and all the hugging-”

“I’m sorry.” Malfoy gurgled, sobbing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burden you-”

“Malfoy, no.” Harry cupped his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “I _ let _you do that, because I didn’t know what my boundaries were. I do know. Would you like to hear them?”

Malfoy nodded vigorously, sending water drops flying. 

“I like hugging,” Harry started. “And hand-holding. But not the- the full body laying on top of. That’s too much.”

Malfoy nodded along, this time without drenching everything near him. 

“And I want to ask for a bigger bed, so we can have some more space while we’re sleeping.

Again, Malfoy nodded.

“And- and no more kissing.”

Malfoy froze, then nodded.

“Is that okay?” Harry pressed. “Really? All of it?”

Malfoy took a deep breath, then smiled his lopsided, Harry you dolt smile. 

“Of course it is. I can’t just _ not _respect your personal boundaries.”

Harry hugged him gratefully. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

They hugged, wet and soggy and cold, while Harry worked up the nerve to say what he needed to say. 

“I’m sorry for being cold without telling you why. I’m sorry for making you feel so awful. I’ll never, ever do it again. Promise.” 

Harry should have said more, had planned to say more, but he could barely choke those out.

Malfoy pulled away, and smiled again. “It did suck, I won’t lie. But now that I know why… I get it. So, I’m sorry too.”

Harry frowned. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You literally couldn’t have known.”

“But-”

“No.” Harry covered his mouth. “You’re fine. You did nothing wrong.”

Malfoy looked like he wanted to protest, but didn’t.

“Fine.” Malfoy’s rolled his eyes, voice muffled. 

“Thanks.” Harry pulled his hand away. “Now, uh, let’s go get some clean clothes. And hide from Pansy.”

“Oh, she’s going to _ kill _you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next: hermione and ron apologies. well not apologies but talking things out you feel.
> 
> also i love cedric sO damn much he is my sOn


	8. Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet??? i hope???  
geez, don't think i've done a chapter this short since the first one. but it's fiiine bc i'll be updating more regularly! i hope! 
> 
> i dunno guys something about not being able to leave the house is driving me up the waalll im going nuts  
but forgat that shat u got shit to read

Draco had missed this.  
He was stretched out on a couch in the common room, legs hanging over the edge a little. His arm was squished up against the back and was feeling uncomfortably numb, but Draco didn’t feel like moving.  
His head was resting on Harry’s lap, and while supported at an awkward angle, Draco was too happy to even consider shifting.  
Harry’s fingers were stroking through Draco’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly and making him hum.  
Harry was talking to Hermione and Ron. Draco had been napping during most of their talk, but knew it was about him, and how Harry had left him.  
Draco frowned, but Harry’s fingers trailed down, rubbed his cheek until he smiled, then returned to his hair.  
Harry had explained in depth why he had left him and apologized for not being there when he was ill. They’d also gone over their new boundaries more directly.  
Draco was allowed to sit close to him and lay in his lap, but he could not lay on him. They could sleep in the same bed, and hold hands while they did it, but, again, no sleeping on each other. Hugs of all kinds were allowed.  
And no, under any circumstances, kissing.  
Draco was sad about that last one. All the others he could let go, but he really did like kissing Harry.  
Not that he would still try and do it, of course, Draco wasn’t a monster, but he allowed himself to mourn it.  
Finally, they moved on to a topic that didn’t make Draco feel slightly guilty.  
“Padfoot says he’ll meet us in Hogsmeade, and that we should bring food,” Harry informed the others.  
“When’d he say that?” Ron asked, hunched over homework Draco knew he had no hope of finishing in time.  
“In a letter this morning,” Harry began carding Draco’s hair into a floppy mohawk. “I sent one when I was in my- uh, mood.”  
“Who’s Padfoot?” Draco mumbled, on the verge of falling asleep again.  
“My godfather.”  
Oh, Sirius. Sirius Black. That fellow.  
“Father used to talk about him,” Draco confessed sleepily. “Laugh about how it all went down with the rat-man. Thought it was hilarious that someone as weak as he pulled it off.”  
Harry sighed. “More like tragic. A good man got put away for thirteen years because of that.”  
Draco grimaced. “Sorry.”  
“You’re fine.” Harry squished his cheek, and Draco giggled.  
“Disgusting.” Draco heard Ron mutter and giggled again. Annoying people with Harry was fun.  
“Anyways,” Hermione butt in. “Did he say how many of us he wanted to come?”  
“I reckon you can all come.” Harry shrugged. “I don’t think he’d mind. Hell, he’d probably ask us to bring Crookshanks.”  
The cat didn’t even twitch upon hearing its name, in typical cat fashion.  
“Alright, so it’s settled.” Hermione closed her book. “I’ll buy some meat and bread off of the house-elves, and we’ll give him a real feast.”  
Harry agreed to that and, as the topic moved onto work that didn’t concern Draco, he allowed himself to drift back to sleep.  
When he woke up again, Ron was raging, a news article clutched in his fist.  
“Can you believe this?” Ron seethed, pacing up and down in front of the fireplace, waving the newspaper around wildly. “Can you believe this tom fuckery?”  
“It’s fine, Ron.” Hermione rolled her eyes, focusing on her knitting.  
“It's motherfucking bullshit!” Ron burst, eyes glaring daggers at the offending paper. “How dare she turn you into some- some kind of- scarlet woman?”  
“Scarlet woman?” Hermione giggled. “Are you serious?”  
Ron’s red face got redder.  
“What the fuck ever, my point is she’s destroyed your character! People’ll think you’re loose!”  
“Sounds like a them problem.” Hermione shrugged, still chuckling and muttering ‘scarlet woman’ under her breath.  
Ron rose up to his full height. “I’m going to fucking confront her.”  
“You are not.”  
“Yes, I fucking am!” Ron stamped his foot. “This cannot fucking stand!”  
“What’s this even about?” Draco cut in groggily. He reached blindly for Harry, who was playing cards on the ground in front of the couch. He slipped down to join him, and Harry dealt him some cards.  
“Rita Skeeter wrote an article about Hermione, Harry and Krum being in some kind of- love triangle.” Ron snarled.  
Draco frowned, facing Harry. “But that’s not true. We’re dating.”  
“Just be happy you’re not in it too,” Harry said grimly, laying down his card. “The last thing we need is homophobia added to this bullshit.”  
“Oh, that’s true.” Draco nodded, wincing. “My people are working hard enough already to keep that to a minimum.”  
Harry gave him a look. “Wait, what people?”  
But Draco raised a hand to quiet him as Ron kept talking.  
“I don’t know why they even had to fucking drag Harry into this,” Ron growled. “Can’t you two just be friends without people making a stink out of it? Are we dating too, if the requirements are just a girl and boy being close?”  
“Does that mean I’m dating Pansy?” Draco scratched his chin.  
“I guess I’m dating Neville.” laughter bubbled out of Hermione. “My, I am quite the whore, aren’t I?”  
“Apparently,” Ron grumbled, collapsing onto an empty chair. “I just can’t believe this.”  
“Honestly, Ronald, it’s no big deal.” Hermione set her in-progress hat down and gave his hand a squeeze. “I promise, it’s not hurting my feelings.”  
“Or mine.” Harry chimed in.  
“Oh, what do you matter?” Ron leaned closer to Hermione, curling his long limbs onto the seat of the chair.  
Harry squawked while Draco laughed.  
“Aren’t you on my side?” Harry snapped. Draco only shrugged, smiling slyly.  
“My only real concern,” Hermione hummed to herself, picking up the paper and scanning it, “is how she found out Krum invited me over to visit during the summer?”  
The crack of Ron's neck as he turned to look at her was deafening.  
“He wut?” He asked quietly, blue eyes sharp and cold.  
Hermione shrivelled away, blushing hard. “He- we just-”  
“I can’t fucking believe this.” His lips barely moved, his body a statue. “Here I am, giving you support, giving you companionship, and this is how you repay me?”  
The look on Hermione's face said she knew what she was saying was the wrong thing to do.  
“Well, it’s not like he fancies you-”  
And thus Ron lost his shit for another hour. 

Look, Draco knew seeing Sirius was important. He did!  
But sitting in a dingy, cold, damp cave, on the first nice day of the year, when he could be eating sweets with his boyfriend, didn’t exactly sound like a good time to him.  
He didn’t voice any of this, however, because Harry was having a very important conversation about Barty Crouch with Sirius.  
They mentioned his family, when they were talking about what happened at the match, and Draco squirmed. Everyone was giving him looks, and he knew he was supposed to say something, but whenever he tried to think about it his head started to hurt again, so Harry told him to play nice with Buckbeak.  
It was strange, cleaning dirt out of the creature you almost had executed, but Buckbeak was a surprisingly forgiving creature, and Draco found himself to actually be enjoying wiping dirt from between his feathers.  
Draco looked up when everyone seemed to be upset- something about a trial, or lack of a trial- but Harry waved him off.  
And then they started talking about the Dark Lord and Draco had to bury his head in Buckbeak's neck to drown it all out.  
He might not have minded talk of him before- he might as well have been a fairy tale for all Draco really cared, but now? With the dark marks returning-  
Draco shivered, but soothed at the hand on his back. Harry had come over.  
And then they started talking about old Death Eaters, and it was weird hearing all his family friends' names said with such scorn.  
It made him feel bad, and he wrapped his arms around Buckbeak tighter, earning a squawk.  
They didn’t talk too much after that, and soon they were back off to the school.  
Ron had stopped by a store to pick up some socks for Dobby, and they all went to visit him the next day.  
Draco couldn’t help a bittersweet smile at the sight of Dobby hugging Ron and Harry giving him a solid pat on the head and thanks for the gillyweed.  
Draco also mumbled a quiet thanks, and Dobby actually smiled at him.  
Draco might’ve sniffled into Hermione’s robes a little after that.  
But then, Dobby drew their attention to Winky.  
Draco hadn’t noticed her last time, he was certain his head had been in stitches then, but Hermione had spoken of her, and she was worse off than Hermione had described.  
Ratty, tatty, and drunk as a sailor, she was swaying dangerously on her stool, staring absently into the fire.  
Draco crouched in front of her. “Are you alright, Miss?”  
Winky gave him a confused look. “Is you- is you talk-alking to me, sir?”  
He nodded. “You seem out of sorts.”  
“She still thinks she is working for Mister Crouch, sir.” Dobby informed him, twisting his knobbly hands.  
“Poor Mister- oh my poor Ma-a-a-ster.” Winky wailed, throwing her head back as pearly tears slipped down her cheeks, leaving tracks in the dirt. “He is- he must be- is so alone! No help from Winky…”  
“He’s a grown man, Winky.” Hermione’s tone was surprisingly curt. “He doesn’t need a house elf for day to day tasks.”  
“Ohhh, but Winky did so much more than tha-a-at!” Wink whimpered, swirling her empty bottle. “She help- helped-ed with his sssecret! Big secret! Winky was so good at taking care of it..”  
“What secret, Winky?” Draco asked quietly.  
“Oh,” Wink cackled, swaying more, “oh, Winky isn’t telling you. Nosy brat.”  
“Hey!” Harry snapped.  
“You too!” Winky screeched, suddenly becoming distraught. “You nosy too!”  
“Take that back!” Dobby interjected. “You do not say such things about Harry Potter!”  
Winky looked like she wanted to say more, but then her eyes were rolling back into her head and she was slumping onto the ground, snoring drunkenly.  
A flurry of house elves rushed over, covering her with a cloth.  
Hermione started an argument with them, and before Draco could slip in with his suave, diplomatic ways, they were being escorted out.  
Least they got food for Sirius.


	9. Sunflowers Still Bloom at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title is the song stuck in my head and honestly not mad

Harry hated Rita Skeeter.

“Yes, Krum, I’m sure Hermione and I aren’t a thing.”

Like, seriously. Harry didn’t like her. 

The other boy didn’t seem quite convinced by Harry’s statement. The article had gotten to him. 

“Are you sure?” Krum asked again, accent and petulance colouring his voice.

Harry felt his eye twitch. “Positive.” 

Krum relaxed a little. “Okay. good.”

He rocked on his feet and looked like he wanted to say more. 

Harry thought on whether or not he had the patience to listen. 

“Do you think, I dunno, she likes me?”

_ Not as much as Ron does. _Harry thought, stifling a smile. 

“Yeah, I reckon she does,'' Harry shrugged. This wasn’t his department. 

Krum nodded thoughtfully. 

“Okay, thank you.”

Harry slipped his hands into his pockets. “Hey, anytime.”

They trailed off awkwardly, Harry kicking the dirt, Krum scratching the back of his head. 

“You fly well.” 

Harry’s eyes flickered up, surprised. “Wha-what?”

Krum jerked his shoulders, but his expression was earnest. “I saw you in the first task. You did well.”

Harry blushed, rubbing the nape of his neck and looking away. “Thanks. You too. Well, obviously you’re good, you’re amazing, but-”

“You’re also very brave for being with that Malfoy boy.”

Now Harry was blushing. “Oh?”

Krum nodded, patting him hard on the back, making Harry’s knees buckle. “The people from my school have been talking. They are not always kind. But I think it is good of the great Harry Potter to be so open.”

Harry wanted to melt into the spot.

He could only manage a nod, too embarrassed to say anymore. 

Krum twisted his fingers together. “I was going to ask about your red-haired-”

Violent rustling from the forest cut Krum off, both jumping and turning to look at it. 

Harry instinctually threw himself in front of Krum, arm blocking the taller, older boy and his other hand pointing his wand towards the commotion. 

Both boys stayed still after that, waiting as the noise got closer and closer.

Harry absently wondered if they should have run, if that would have been the smarter move, but Harry had never really been one to turn his back to something, even if he should have. 

Krum also hesitantly pulled out his wand, which brought Harry some small comfort. 

The noise got closer and closer, Harry sweating in the humid dusk air both from the warmth and fear. 

Finally, someone burst from the forest, arms reaching for Harry. 

Without thinking a spell slipped from Harry’s mouth, knocking his assailant flat on their ass. 

The man yelped, collapsing in on himself, shaking and shuddering. 

“Mr Crouch?” Harry gasped as he got a better look, mortified. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was you, I wouldn’t have-”

But Crouch seemed to shake it off, shakily standing to his feet and muttering to himself. 

“Is that- the judge from your ministry?” Krum asked, not lowering his wand, though Harry had already shoved his back into his pocket. 

“Yes, and something is wrong with him,” Harry announced as if it wasn’t obvious by the way he was twitching. 

His eyes flickered across the trees, flinching at every shadow and slight movement, even some that Harry didn’t see. His lips were moving quickly, spitting out whispers that Harry couldn’t catch. 

Harry moved to stand in front of him, despite Krum hissing at him to not move.

“Mr Crouch?” Harry spoke clearly and strongly, not in a way that would baby him, but so he could understand Harry was speaking to him. 

He waited for a response, Crouch’s eyes flickering to him, focusing on him, and then away again, still searching.

Harry wondered what for. 

“Mr Crouch, would you nod for me if you can hear me?” Harry asked. A basic question, but he was more trying to ground him than confirm his hearing.

He gave Crouch a moment to process his question before the man nodded. 

He couldn’t seem to keep eye contact with Harry, but Harry didn’t need that. 

“Thank you, Mr Crouch.” Harry left his hand loose at his side, trying to look non-threatening. “Could you sit down for me?”

Crouch screwed his eyes shut, but did as he was told. 

“That’s very good, Mr Crouch.” Harry praised him, sitting down as well. “Can you tell me if you’re hurt?”

Crouch took shaky breaths, beginning to rock, shaking his head.

“Can you tell me where you are?”

Crouch nodded, needing to rock for a bit before answering ‘Hogwarts’.

“That’s right, Mr Crouch. Do you know how you got here?”

That seemed to upset him too, making him rock faster and mutter again. 

This time, Harry caught bits and pieces. 

“Bertha… dead… bertha dead and gone and dead and gone…. My son…. My son the bastard….” going on and on, repeating himself and occasionally mentioning Dumbledore.

Yes, he sounded about the right man for this. 

“I’ve got to go get Dumbledore.” Harry stood, turning to Krum. “You’ve got to stay and watch him.”

“Me?” Krum faltered, eyes flickering between the distraught Crouch and Harry’s stern gaze. “Can’t you take him with you?”

“Does he look like he’s in the position to move?” Harry asked, gesturing to the rocking man. “Just stay here, I’ll only be a few minutes. ‘Sides, you don’t know where his office is.”

Krum relented, urging him to be back soon. 

Harry sprinted off towards the castle, knowing he had to move quickly. Crouch was skinny and sickly looking, nevermind the fact he looked like he might burst into either tears or a shouting fit. He needed Dumbledore’s help. 

Harry’s legs burned with how fast he was moving and the effort of climbing the many stairs of Hogwarts but finally appeared in front of the gryphon statue. 

He kicked the statue, bellowing at it to open up. 

“Dumbledore! This is important! Let me up!” Harry hollered, hoping Dumbledore could hear him. “Crouch is outside and he’s losing it! He needs help!” 

The gryphon statue turned, and Harry was sure he’d done it. 

Instead, he saw Snape swirling down the stairs, giving him a scornful look. 

“Potter,” he drawled. “Surprised to see Mister Malfoy is not hovering over you.”

Harry swallowed back anything that might get him in trouble. “Professor, Mr Crouch is outside, and he needs help.”

“Crouch?” Snape raised an eyebrow. “What would he be doing here?”

Harry felt like he was so full of frustration that he was going to throw it up. “Just let me tell Dumbledore!”

Snape opened his mouth, smirking, but the statue moved again, and Harry sagged in relief. “Dumbledore! I need your help!”

“What is it, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, calmly folding his hands.

“It’s Crouch! I left him by the forest with Krum, but we’ve got to go!”

Dumbledore, unlike the shitty Snape, took Harry seriously and follows him back outside. 

They moved fast, Harry slowing down slightly, but they still didn’t take much time. 

Unfortunately, it was still too long. 

By the time they got there, the sun had set, and all they could see in the remaining light was Krum’s unconscious form.

“Krum!” Harry cried, kneeling beside him. “What happened?” He looked up to Dumbeldore, who joined him. 

“He seems to have been stunned.” Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. 

“Where’s Crouch?” Harry’s head spun back and forth, straining to see through the trees. 

Dumbledore didn’t answer his question, muttering a spell instead. 

Krum’s eyes flickered open, and he slowly sat up, grabbing at his forehead. 

“Ugh, what happened?” He asked, blinking sluggishly. “Who- who hit me? Was it Crouch?”

“We were hoping you could tell us.” Dumbledore sighed quietly, looking around. 

As more adults showed up, including Hagrid and Moody, Harry pulled Krum aside. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, scanning Krum over. 

Krum nodded, dusting himself off. 

“I don’t think I like your judge very much.” He admitted. “Even if he didn’t stun me.”

Harry shrugged, not having much to say to that.

Moody and Hagrid had left, and Harry and the others were waiting. For something. 

He probably should have listened. 

They didn’t have to wait for long before Karkaroff appeared with Hagrid, looking sleek and fashionable in his silver furs. 

He immediately began to fuss over Krum, and Harry didn’t care for that. 

He tugged on Dumbledore's arm and asked if he could go to his dorm. 

Dumbledore shook his head, keeping an eye on Karkaroff. “I’m afraid I’ll need to speak to you about what happened tonight in my office. Hagrid, if you would lead him there?”

Pouting and tired, Harry followed Hagrid off to Dumbeldore’s office. 

He hoped this wouldn’t take long. 

Draco murmured in his sleep, reaching for him. Harry patted his hand but returned to clasping his arms tightly. 

It was horrible, seeing Crouch banish his son to a life of hell and dementors. He couldn’t imagine such cruelty from a father. Well, he sort of could. His uncle would’ve done it with a smile on his face and laugh in his voice. 

Maybe that was what was getting to Harry. More than his dream of Voldemort, or seeing Crouch mad and raving in person. He just couldn’t stand the idea of Vernon damming him for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to go back in the summer; the thought made him sick to his goddamn stomach. He knew it wasn’t as bad as Azkaban, it’d be self-centred of him to think so, but it filled him with such a heavy sense of dread and despair he couldn’t help but make the comparison. 

“Mm- ‘Arry? Wass wrong?” 

Fuck, he woke up Malfoy. 

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Harry said, more curt than normal. _ That _woke Draco up. 

“What’s wrong?” The blond’s eyes shot open and he sat up hastily. 

Harry realized just how much was wrong, and found himself struggling to answer. 

“I’m just- sad, Draco. About- Jesus, everything,” he admitted, knowing better than to not answer at all. That would just make Draco panic more, and they didn’t both need to be upset. 

Draco’s hands twitched, and Harry knew he wanted to hug him. 

Sighing, Harry opened his arms. He wouldn’t mind it. 

Draco fell into him, nuzzling against his chest. He was worried. 

Harry breathed in his air, coughing a little at the scent of his hair gel.

“Don’t worry about me, Malfoy.” Harry sighed, sniffling quietly so he wouldn’t hear. 

“I’ve been worrying about you since the first year, Potter. I don’t plan on stopping.” 

And dammit, there it was again. Malfoy saying things that just didn’t make sense. 

Harry brushed it off, because he was too tired to figure the spell out, and just bathed in Malfoy’s warmth. 

“I’m so tired,” Harry mumbled. “Can I just- not deal with any of this? 

Draco pulled back, smoothing Harry’s bangs back in a way he felt was too sweet and intimate to be allowed, but letting it happen anyway. 

He didn’t mind these tender touches at the moment, even if they left him feeling guilty later. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with a damn thing.” Draco murmured. “I hate it.”

Harry sighed, giving into himself a little and leaning his forehead against Draco’s. “I don’t want to go back to the Dursely’s, Draco.”

Draco raised his hand to cup Harry’s neck, eyes glittering in the moonlight as he eyed him sternly. “You should never have been sent there in the first place.”

Harry let out a puff of air through his nose. “Dumbledore sent me there to keep me humble, not let my mind get all inflated with thoughts of grandeur.” 

“There’s a difference between keeping you humble and having you abused.” Draco objected, and the word stopped Harry in his tracks.

Abused. 

Harry was… abused?

He’d never thought about it like that before, never worded it quite like that, but he supposed it was true. 

Huh. 

“Fuck,” Harry whispered, and he had to fight hard to not cry. “Can’t argue with that.”

Draco broke under his pained gaze, burying his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. “Jesus Christ, I hate Dumbledore. And the Dursley’s and everyone else whoever thought it was okay.”

Harry again felt a swell of vindication. Even if he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel the venom Draco spat against Dumbledore, or even the Durselys, he felt _ validated _having someone else hate them so. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Draco pulled back again, refixing Harry with his stare. “I’m sick of Hogwarts. Let’s just leave. Go somewhere else, anywhere else. Fuck this place.”

Harry blinked owlishly at him. “What?”

“You heard me.” Draco but his hands on Harry’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Let’s just go. Who can stop us? We’ll have the cloak, we have our brooms- let’s just go.”

The idea was sorely tempting to Harry. 

“We can’t just leave, Malfoy.” Harry objected anyways. “We’re- we’re just kids.”

Draco and Harry both knew how much Harry resented that sentiment. 

“Then just for tonight.” Draco offered instead. “We go to Hogsmeade. We dick around, just be goddamn _ people _.”

An idea flickered in Harry’s head. “I’ve got a better idea.”

It was easy to sneak out of the castle. It wasn’t like Harry wasn’t experienced with it, though Draco was still a little uneasy about it. 

He had mellowed out greatly since the last time they’d snuck across the castle grounds, Harry noted. Not quite so high strung, or emotional. 

More like a normal person. 

The thought brought little comfort, as usual. 

To Draco’s surprise, they snuck toward the Whomping Willow, slipping into the hole in its trunk and the tunnels leading to Hogsmeade. 

They held hands, because why the hell not, and occasionally Harry would give Draco’s hand a little squeeze, just because. 

They appeared at the Shrieking Shack, and Harry folded up the invisibility cloak. 

“Ready?” He asked, readying his broom. 

Draco nodded, already straddling his own.

They shot out of a huge hole in the ceiling, soaring across the night sky.

“Where is it?” Draco asked, having to shout to be heard past the rush of wind. 

“Not far, I don’t think. Follow me.”

They flew hard and fast, swooping above and around each other, and Harry felt _ free. _The wind in his hair soothed his twisting, gnarled thoughts and put him right at ease. 

While Harry felt calm and relaxed, Draco looked alive. He was whooping and diving and bursting with energy. 

Harry felt bad, thinking of how cooped up Draco had been. Not much chance for exercise when you’re a shadow. 

But he was relishing in his chance to fly, and Harry saw Draco was built for it. 

He’d always thought it was just something he’d used to get back at him, something he didn’t have any passion for outside of spite. 

But that wasn’t true, even if he was a little rough at it, he was clearly in love with every move he made, every lick of the wind and dip of his broom. 

Harry felt his heart swell, and couldn’t even muster the energy to squash his feelings down. 

Malfoy was just- beautiful in the sky. 

Draco was a constellation, he thought, and it fit. Draco looked like he was made for the stars. 

“Hey!” Draco laughed, breathless. “I think I see it!”

Harry’s eyes flickered down, and he saw what Draco meant. “Yeah, that’s it!”

They landed a way before it, to remain inconspicuous, and Harry wrapped their brooms in the cloak. He set them carefully in a bush and made Malfoy swear he knew exactly where they were. He didn’t feel like toting them around all night. 

They approached the town of Goose Creek, Harry’s arm around Draco’s shoulders and a skip in their steps. 

It was midnight, there was bound to be shit all to do, but Harry was just relaxed at being somewhere _ normal _. 

No magic, no dark wizards, no tournaments. 

Just him and Draco.

“First one to find a twenty-four-seven place wins.” Harry angled his head as they walked down the street. The main street wasn’t huge, but it split off to a few more roads with stores on them, so Harry was confident they’d find something. 

Draco’s arm rested comfortably on Harry’s waist, his other hand holding Harry’s, eyes wide as he examined every story. 

“A muggle town,” he whispered, and Harry snickered. 

“What, your first time being in one?” Harry asked, tilting his head. 

Draco shrugged, looking embarrassed. “We don’t usually stay in the muggle parts for long. Father says there’s nothing good there.”

“Your father’s a ratbag.” Harry declared and Draco’s eyes opened wider. 

Harry laughed, pulling Draco closer. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” Draco whispered, but Harry brushed him off. 

“Hey, look!” Harry pointed down the street. “There’s a park.”

Draco’s scoffed. “Harry? That’s what catches your eye?”

“Always.”

He dragged the blonde along, making sure no one else was haunting the place. 

All clear.

Harry immediately went for the swings, base instincts kicking in. 

Draco rolled his eyes, standing before Harry with his arms crossed. 

Harry kicked his legs, relaxing as he was rocked back and forth. 

“Come on,” Harry urged, tilting his head up at Draco. “Come swing with me.”

Draco arched his brow before a mischievous smirk flickered across his face. 

Harry frowned, leaning away. “What are you doing?”

Draco stalked towards him, face now clear and innocent. 

“Nothing.” Draco shrugged, getting closer and closer. “Just going to swing with you.”

Before Harry could move Draco was on top of him, swinging his legs around Harry and locking them together. 

Harry almost passed out from how quickly his face went up in flames, Draco’s eyes decidedly _far _too close to his. 

“Well?” Draco cocked his head, breath soft and sweet against Harry’s cheek. “Let’s swing.”

Harry took a second to register his words, before violently shaking his head. 

“Uh uh, this _ for sure _breaks some of our boundaries.” He stammered.

And just like that, whatever weird mood had been building shattered. 

Draco flailed wildly trying to get off of Harry, legs getting twisted up and head slamming on the ground. 

“Draco!” Harry tried to lean after him. Draco’s hand snagged on his nightshirt, and he only ended up falling on top of him. 

“Harry!” Draco yelped, coughing as Harry’s boney elbows dug into his stomach. “I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry!” Harry tried to get up, foot hooking on the swing and he ended up falling, their faces slamming into each other. 

Both boys groaned, stilling to avoid further harm. 

Harry peeked his eyes open, Draco’s still squeezed shut. 

He took notice of his long lashes, thinking back to that night of the dance when he’d noted them for the first time. 

Lost in thought, he cupped Draco’s cheek gently. 

Draco’s eyes fluttered open, glittering inquisitively at him. “What?”

Harry blushed again, sitting up. “Nothing, sorry.”

Draco followed after him, leaning in close. 

“No, what?”

Harry looked to the sky, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You… just have nice eyelashes. Is all.”

Draco let out a breath, leaning his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Phew, is that all? You looked so serious.”

Harry went to shrug, but changed his mind, not wanting to disrupt Draco. “I guess I was also thinking of the dance.”

Draco hummed happily, surprising Harry.

“I liked the Yule Ball.” Draco murmured wistfully.

“Really?” Harry couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice. “Why? It ended horribly.”

“Mm, yeah,” Draco admitted, hooking his arms on Harry’s lower back. “But I had so much fun practising for it and dancing with you. And I liked it when you played with my hair.”

Harry’s hand twitched. 

“O-oh.” 

Slowly, he raised his hand to Draco’s head and dragged his fingers purposefully through Draco’s hair.

Draco pulled back, allowing Harry to settle his bangs. 

Again, he was swept away by how… innocent he looked. 

Something about his hair framing his face softened his sharp, angular features, and set him apart from the boy Harry had known all those years. 

Harry let his fingers slip from his hair to his cheek, dusting his fingertips over the soft skin.

“I like your hair like this,” he muttered, lips barely moving. 

Draco blushed, ducking his head down. “I can leave it.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “No, no, do it however you like. I just- think you look nice with your hair down.”

Draco looked up at him through those thick, long lashes. “How sweet.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Harry, as Draco inched closer to him, realized he was sitting on Draco’s lap. 

Wasn’t that something he had tried to stop?

Shouldn’t he be stopping Draco’s lips, so soft and pink, from getting closer to his?

Draco turned at the last minute, kissing his cheek.

“Can’t break the rules,” Draco whispered. 

Harry swallowed. 

He almost, _ almost _, asked Draco to do it anyway, the rules be damned. 

Thankfully, he didn’t, and the blond stood up, pulling Harry up to his feet. 

“I’m tired.” He admitted. 

Harry nodded, still in a daze. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go back.”

“Yeah.”

The third task was inching closer and closer, the daunting final challenge hovering over Harry like a shadow. 

Still, he felt like he could do it. 

With Draco against his back, wrapped back up in the blankets of their dorm, waiting for the sun to rise, Harry didn’t think he could just make it through. 

He felt he could win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back into my groove, forgive me!!  
we're so close to being done this one, and I'm even considering doing the rest of the series if anyone's interested? I just think the dynamic this story sets up could be interesting to see play out with the rest of Rowling's plots.  
Idk just an idea, would definitely take forever


	10. No Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> phew! almost done, kiddos! It's seeming very likely I'm going to do Order of the Phoenix, which low-key means I'll be rewriting one of the biggest books in the series? A smarter me would just do it based on the movie, but I'm a dumb-dumb so who knows!  
okay, enjoy!

Draco worriedly tapped his hands against the table. 

It was the morning of the Third Task, and he was all nerves as he watched Harry eat his breakfast.

He barely touched his food, something Pansy, even from across the Great Hall, took notice of. He tried to ignore her dirty looks as he absently tore his bread to pieces. 

“Oi,” Ron called to him, mouth full of sausage and hash. “Cheer up, you fuckin blond bastard. Harry’s the one getting lost in a fuckin maze, not you.”

Draco sighed, tugging at Harry’s sleeve. “I know. Still nervous.”

“I dunno,” Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. “I think I might do alright. Gotten top marks so far, haven’t I?”

Draco nodded. “That’s true.”

Harry tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Still nervous?”

Draco looked away, pouting. 

Harry’s smile morphed into a grin, and he hooked his arm around Draco’s shoulders, making Draco blush. “You big softie.”

“Disgustin,” Ron muttered, scooping himself another bowl of porridge. “Fuckin PDA in front of my breakfast.”

A sharp  _ whack  _ echoed across the table. 

“Language, Weasley.”

Ron groaned, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, Professor.”

McGonagall glared down at him, unimpressed, then looked up to Harry. “The champions are meeting in a chamber off of the Great Hall after breakfast, Mister Potter. And yes, Mister Malfoy, you may attend as well.”

Draco relaxed, sipping his orange juice and cooling down from the tantrum he was about to throw. 

Harry cocked his head, furrowing his brow. “Doesn’t the task start tonight? Ah, don’t tell me I’ve gotten my times messed up!”

“No, no, you’re alright Potter.” She raised a hand to calm him. “The champions' families are merely being given the chance to see them beforehand.”

She walked away, not giving Harry to ask the question tumbling out of his mouth. 

“Don’t tell me the Dursleys are coming?”

Draco scowled, hand finding Harry’s and squeezing. “If they’re here, I’m killing them. That’s that.”

Harry gave his hand an absent pat, and Draco’s scowl increased. 

“I can’t imagine they’d bother themselves with the trip.” Ron tried to reassure him. “Fuck me, I’ve got my exam soon, I’ve got to run.”

Ron scampered off, leaving Harry and Draco in the Great Hall, waiting for the supposed meeting. 

“Do I even bother going?” Harry asked, mushing around his oats. “It’ll be awkward, sitting there just me and you while everyone else is with their families.”

Draco didn’t mind the idea too much, he had to admit, but he could tell Harry did. 

“Well, I’ll sketch you up a nice little family, with a mum and dad and a dog.”

“Sounds like my folks with Sirius.” Harry smiled a little wistfully. “I wonder what it would have been like, growing up with them.”

“Well for one, your forehead wouldn’t look so ghastly.”

Harry shoved Draco, both of them laughing. 

“Shut up, you! Your big blinding forehead is no treat either!” Harry flicked the forehead in question. 

Malfoy gasped, genuinely offended, before scooping up Harry’s hand and kissing it. 

“There, take that,” Draco smirked at Harry’s gaping jaw and flushed face. 

“Jerk,” Harry looked away, pulling his hand to his chest. “I thought we said no kissing.”

“I chose to interpret that as on the lips.”

“Hmph.”

“Oi! Harry!”

Draco and Harry both looked up to see Cedric waving at them from the doorway to another room. 

“Hurry up, you lot.” Cedric urged. “They’re waiting.”

“They?” Harry and Draco said in unison, giving each other twin looks of perplexity. 

Standing, Draco took Harry’s hand as they cautiously made their way to the door. 

Harry gave Draco’s a little squeeze, and though he looked almost pale, he was still rather chipper.

They opened the door, and Draco had a look around the room. 

Cedric and his parents were by the door, Amos Diggery, he thought his father's name was, boasting loudly how proud he was of his son. 

Fleur, her sister, and her mother were chattering in french in the corner by the fireplace, and Draco was very pleased to say he knew exactly what they were talking about. 

Krum and his parents were talking low in Bulgarian, which Draco didn’t speak, but he was distracted by the bushel of red hair in front of him. 

“Harry!” Mrs Weasley cheered, stepping forward and wrapping Harry in a hug, breaking their hand-holding. “Oh, I have missed you!”

Another Weasley boy, whom Draco didn’t recognize, waved a hullo. 

“Charlie would have come too, but he couldn’t get off work. Loved how you handled the Horntail, though.”

As they swapped greetings and small talk, Draco picked up the boy’s name was Bill, and had graduated Hogwarts five years prior. 

He also picked up on Mrs Weasley shooting him dirty looks, though he couldn’t figure out why. 

He tried to think about it, but his head started hurting again, so he let the thought go. 

“Why don’t you show us around, Harry dear?” Mrs Weasley asked. “And we can let your friend run off to his exam.”

“Oh, I don’t have an exam right now, Mrs Weasley.” Draco jumped in. “I got excused so I could spend time with Harry.”

Something like disdain flickered across her face, but it morphed quickly into a smile. 

“Ah! Of course. Well, shall we?”

Harry took up Draco’s hand again, and Draco’s heart fluttered as he led them out the door. He loved it when Harry initiated things.

He showed the Weasleys the Beauxbatons carriage, and the Durmstrang ship and Draco prattled on about what he knew about the respective schools, trying to impress Mrs Weasley, as she obviously meant a lot to Harry. 

Mrs Weasley nodded along politely, but Draco got the sense she wished he wasn’t there. 

He trailed off, letting go of Harry’s hand and walking a little behind. 

Bill, to his surprise, caught up with him. 

“Hullo, Draco.” Bill smiled at him. He had a tooth for an earring and long hair that reminded him of his father, but more youthful. 

“Hello, Bill.” Draco didn’t bring his eyes up from the grass as they walked around the grounds. 

“You and Harry seem close,” Bill noted, smiling a little. 

Draco perked up slightly, nodding. “Yes. We’re dating.”

“Oh? When did that happen?”

Draco frowned. 

“Oh. um.”

When had it happened?

He couldn’t remember. 

Shouldn’t that be something he remembered?

He’d wanted to date Harry for years. Ever since he’d seen him in that robes shop, too small and shaggy to be on his own. He’d felt precious to Draco. 

So surely, when he finally got what he wanted he would remember it. Right?

“Ah, it’s okay.” Billy raised a hand, still smiling. “We don’t have to talk about it. How's the fourth year been treating you?”

Draco hummed, finger to his chin. “Not bad. Classes have been challenging, I guess, but I always get through it. I’ve had a few rough patches, where I’ve gotten sick or needed to spend more time with Harry, but I’m good at catching up.” He frowned. “Hate DADA though.”

“Really?” Something humorous glittered in Bill’s eye. “Why’s that?”

Draco frowned and squinted at a rock as he kicked it. “Moody’s a right prick, he is. Full of more shit and paranoia than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Yes, I heard about the ferret incident.”

Draco’s expression darkened. “I will never forgive the ferret incident.”

Harry laughed up ahead, and Draco smiled fondly. He seemed perfectly at ease with Mrs Weasley, as he did with all the Weasley’s. It was nice to see them all so close. 

“Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so sweet on someone before.”

Draco blushed, ducking his head. “Yeah. I do love him.”

Bill blinked in surprise. “Love? Really?”

Draco cocked his head. “Yeah? Course I do. Loved him since- gosh, forever. He’s- he’s perfect.”

A hand shoved at his chest.

Draco squawked, rebalancing himself. 

“What was that for?” Draco pouted, rubbing his bruised skin. 

Harry looked away, blushing. “Shut up with that. I mean it.”

Draco frowned. “No, I won’t.  _ I  _ mean it. I love you, Harry.”

His blush increased. 

“Yeah, well. Whatever.”

Molly looked tense but tried to shake that away with a smile. “Come on, my dears! It’s about lunchtime, isn’t it?”

Bill clapped his hands. “Right on, Momma! Let’s go, boys.”

The Weasleys went on ahead, Harry staying back with Draco. 

Harry brushed past Draco, hair hiding his eyes, as he said “I uh. Like you too. Asshole.”

And then he went on ahead. 

But Draco couldn’t move. 

His heart was too full, his head too happy. 

He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt and might’ve teared up. 

Even with their boundaries, even with all that had happened, Harry still liked him. 

“Draco?”

“Coming!” Draco hurried after Harry, wiping his face. 

Harry was giddy as he ate lunch with the Weasley’s. 

His favourite people in the world sat around him; Draco at his side, Hermione giggling and chatting away with Ron, the twins and Ginny filling their mother in on all that had happened-

He couldn’t help but smile. 

He took Draco’s hand, too excited to eat, and laughed at something Bill said. 

All too soon the others had to go to their classes, and it was just Harry, Draco, Molly and Bill again. 

“Let’s go to the Great Lake, huh?” Molly suggested brightly. “We can have a nice little walk around the water while we wait for the time to pass.”

“Sounds fun!” Harry agreed, standing up with Draco. “What do you say?”

Draco shrugged, smiling at Harry. “I don’t mind. Can’t be worse than last time, eh?”

Harry blushed, remembering the second task. “Oh. Yeah.”

It was cooler near the water, but still pleasantly warm. Harry rolled up his sleeves and jeans, throwing off his robes to romp in the waves. 

Draco hung back near the shore, but he couldn’t resist when Harry held his hand out. 

The blond scoffed quietly, unable to hide his smile as he shucked off his shoes and rolled up his dress pants. 

He was wearing a white button-up under his robes, and it instantly got wet as soon as he entered the water. 

Harry pulled him close, making Draco yelp. 

“Hello there,” Harry smiled, holding Draco close to his chest. “Long time no see.” 

Draco rolled his eyes, pale skin pleasantly pink in the sun. “Haha, Potter.”

Harry grinned. He was just so damn  _ happy  _ today. 

He was going to go into the maze, he was going to fucking  _ win _ , and he was going to spend the rest of the day celebrating with his friends. 

Draco traced his cheeks, fingers wet and trailing drops of water. “You’re so cheery today.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Harry gave him a crooked grin. “I’m here with you instead of doing shit exams.”

Draco blushed more, looking past him and out to the lake. “Shut up.”

“What? It’s true.”

Draco shoved Harry lightly, making Harry laugh. 

He shoved him back, and Draco shoved him again, and soon Molly was shouting at them to settle down. 

“Hear that? Your Mum wants you to chill out.” Draco teased. 

“Haha, very funny. Listen, I love you and all, but you better cut that shit out-”

A wave, stronger than any before, crashed against Harry’s legs and sent him careening towards the cold water.

His arms windmilled, trying to regain his balance when Draco’s hand closed on his sweater. 

He held him inches from the water, his other arm moving to support his back. 

“I’ve got you.”

Harry blinked, stunned by how quickly Malfoy’s gaze had turned intense. 

Harry realized he was being held in a traditional ‘dip’, and a light blush crept across his face. 

“Th-thanks.” 

Draco slowly pulled him upright, and their noses were touching.

“Anytime.” Draco’s voice was low and confident.

Harry furrowed his brow. Something seemed- different, suddenly.

“Hey, are you-”

“Come on, boys!” Molly called. “Let’s head in before you catch a chill!” 

Harry turned back to Draco, but he was already wading towards the shore. 

His hands were in his pockets, and he shot Harry a look he couldn’t decipher. 

“Let's go, you’ve got to get ready. Don’t want you wasting all your energy here instead of the maze.”

Harry nodded slowly, before splashing after Draco. 

His hand twitched, and Draco gave him a sly smirk. 

“Want to hold my hand, Potter? How sweet.”

Harry scowled, looking away. 

A cold hand slipped into his own, interlocking their fingers and giving him a little squeeze. 

Harry’s head spun to look at Draco, but the other was focused on the shore. 

“Weirdo,” Harry muttered, pulling Draco along. “Come on, your highness. Best do as the lady says.”

They hung out on the shore, drying off while Molly and Harry swapped stories. 

Molly’s were a bit tamer, keeping critters out of the garden and such, but Harry didn’t mind. 

What he  _ did  _ mind were the weird looks Draco kept shooting Harry.

He tried to ask about it, but Draco merely shrugged him off. 

Finally, it was supper time, and Harry slipped his arm around Draco’s waist.

Draco looked almost surprised but leaned into Harry.

They both picked at their meals, Draco seemingly lost in thought, Harry too busy chatting. 

Finally, it was time. 

Harry looked to Draco as McGonagall called for him, almost afraid he wouldn’t want to walk him to the maze. 

Which was ridiculous, he was a grown boy, he could walk to the Third Task on his own, but he still felt relieved when Draco stood up almost immediately and took his hand. 

Weird mood or not, Draco was with him. 

They followed the other Champions to the Quidditch field, now completely transformed. 

The maze was taller than even Hagrid, and the walls looked thick. 

Harry shivered, watching the fog roll out of the mouth of the shrubbery.

“Edgy,” Malfoy whispered, and Harry laughed, relaxing. 

McGonagall went over the rules one last time as everyone else started to file into the stands. 

Finally, it was time for Draco to go. 

He brushed a kiss against Harry’s cheek and gave him a strangely emotional look. 

“Good luck, Harry.” He murmured, giving his hand one last squeeze before running off. 

Harry brushed the skin that Malfoy’s lips had touched, bushing slightly, before snapping to attention at the sound of Fleur’s giggles. 

Scowling, he got into place. 

As he and Cedric were tied for first, they got to go into the maze first. 

They ran down the leafy hallway, keeping space with each other before coming across a fork. 

Harry slowed, turning to Cedric. 

Even in the darkness of the maze, his smile was dazzling. 

“See you on the other side, Harry.”

“See ya, Cedric.”

And the boys went their separate ways. 

Harry knew one thing, and he knew it with all his heart. 

He was not letting go of Cedric. 

Ever. 

Even as they pried his body, cold, far too cold, from his hands, he knew he would never let go. For the rest of his life would he remain at the foot of that maze, face buried in Cedric’s too still chest, arms clasped around his torso.

Voices echoed around him, something about Cedric being dead, but that wasn’t right because Cedric  _ wasn’t  _ dead, he couldn’t be, Harry couldn’t have failed him like that he didn’t believe it-

Dumbledore pulled and pulled at him, trying to get him off the ground, trying to get him to stand up, but Harry was limp. 

He could only see Cedric, could only focus on him, on his eyes, open, and glassy, almost unseeing-

Dumbledore pressed Harry tight against his side, his bony frame the only thing keeping Harry standing. 

Harry didn’t want to stand. 

He wanted to bury his face into the ground, he wanted to go back to the grass, he wanted Cedric back in his arms-

“Harry!” 

A hoarse voice tore Harry from his agony. 

“Harry!” 

He looked up. Draco was running towards him, eyes wide with fear. 

Someone held him back, and he hated them more than all but Voldemort at that moment. 

“Draco.” He muttered, then said again, stronger, “Draco!”

“Let me go, you ass! I have to get to him!” Draco was struggling against the man, fighting to get to Harry.

“Draco, Draco I  _ saw  _ him-” And suddenly he  _ had  _ to talk about what he’d seen, about what had happened. “Voldemort, it’s him he’s  _ back _ -”

“I know!” Draco cried. “I know! You’ve got to get out of here- let me  _ go,  _ you filthy motherfucker!” 

Dumbeldore was now restraining Harry as well. “Not now, Mister Potter.”

Harry couldn’t hear him. “Draco! Draco, please-”

More men joined in restraining Draco, one being Crabbe, Harry noticed. 

“Let him go!” Harry struggled to put power into his voice, his scar addling his brains, his legs threatening to break under him. “Please- please let him go.”

Someone blocked Draco from his view, and Harry fell back into his pain induced state. 

He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore, eyes weakly searching for Draco, voices muffled and bouncing off his ears. 

A strong hand replaced Dumbeldore’s, supporting Harry, and leading him away. 

“N-no-” Harry tried to stop them. “I’ve got to stay…”

“C’mon, c’mon,” a voice, gruff and worn, urged him. 

Harry found himself powerless, obeying without resistance. 

He was led inside the castle, the doors closing on the sound of screams. 

Mad-Eye Moody in a trunk- Voldemort was back, he was back and he wanted to hurt Harry- Barty Crouch was alive and he was spilling everything while Winky sobbed- was Harry crying too? Sirius’s cold nose brushing against him, Fudge screaming and screaming, and then a slim, soft hand smoothing over his forehead.

“Go to sleep, love.

We’ll talk later.”

Harry accepted the potion at his lips, drifting off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro I teared up reading the book, Cedric's death hits HARD
> 
> also so much happened at the end I wasn't writing all that shit you all know Barty Crouch was Mad-Eye and fucked shit up


	11. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end, my dear friends, is upon us. so sad, so true. but! it doesn't have to be over for good. we may see an Order of the Phoenix in our futures!  
stay tuned, and have a nice day  
bye!

Hogwarts was almost- peaceful after everything that had happened. 

People danced around him, uneager to be near the boy who had last seen Cedric Diggory alive, leaving him in the company of Hermione and Ron, just how he liked it. 

They sat on the grounds, Hermione reading, Ron and Harry playing cards, and just were, for a little bit. It was nice. It was normal. 

The only odd thing, in his already odd world, was he hadn’t seen Draco at all. 

Not in the Great Hall, which, yeah, wasn’t too odd since Harry usually went in later, but not in bed either, or the Common Room or even on the grounds. 

The password hadn’t changed; Draco could go up to see him whenever he pleased. 

He just. Didn’t. 

And it was odd. 

It also got Harry’s head swirling with what would happen over the summer. 

How would they handle the love spell? They couldn’t exactly visit each other, he couldn’t imagine either the Malfoy’s or the Dursley’s being okay with that. There wasn’t much room to hide a boy in the Dursley house, and he doubted anyone would be okay if he stayed at Malfoy Manor. 

He also wondered if anyone would notice… 

He was almost tempted to go down to the Slytherin dorms and ask if the blond was alright, but Hermione talked him out of that. 

“If he wants to see you, he’ll see you. You needed space, maybe he does now too.”

Which, yeah, but that shouldn’t be  _ possible _ . The spell shouldn’t allow it!

Frustrated, he took it up with McGonagall. 

He’d been avoiding teachers just as much as students, uneager to see the pitying looks in their eyes, but this was important. 

“Potter!” McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see him. “Come in, I’ve been meaning to send an owl to see you.”

“You- have?” Harry tried not to wince. He hoped this wasn’t a Cedric speech. He wasn’t eager to talk or think, about that night for a long time. 

“Yes, ever since Mister Malfoy stopped by.”

Harry looked up at that. “He did? When?”

McGonagall ushered him into a seat and sat at her desk. “Why, a little after the- well, the Third Task. He came to inform me the spell was broken. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you two aren’t close, but that was a long time to spend together-”

Harry didn’t hear anything else. 

The spell-

The spell was broken?

He was floored, staring slack-jawed at her cluttered desk. 

McGonagall paused in her speech. “Don’t tell me you didn’t  _ know _ ?”

Harry shook his head slowly. 

McGonagall furrowed her sharp brow.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mister Potter. I thought you would have known.”

Harry thought so too. 

What had happened? Had the witch broken it?

“We’re still looking for the witch who did it, don’t worry, she will be brought to justice.” Harry ignored the muttered ‘I hope’.

“So- she didn’t undo it, then?” Harry asked, trying to make sense of things. 

McGonagall shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know. Mister Malfoy might be able to provide more insight.”

Hmph. If he would even  _ talk  _ to Harry. 

“Thank you, McGonagall. That’s all I wanted to ask.”

She opened her mouth to say something but seemed to change her mind. 

“Good day, Mister Potter.”

He left her office, more confused than ever. 

So, they’d done it, then? They’d broken the spell, or the witch had broken it, or something like that. 

Shouldn’t he be happy, then?

He guessed he was. There wasn’t much to be sad about when he thought about it. 

Draco Malfoy, his rival since school had begun, was no longer spelled into loving him. That was a good thing, for both their sakes. 

And yet…

“Ah, snap out of it, Harry.” 

Ron ruffled his hair, yanking on him and rolling his head around. 

“You’re not getting any closer to the doors like that.”

They were all packed up, all ready to go back home. 

All ready to leave Hogwarts. 

Even after all the bullshit this school put him through, and would no doubt continue to put him through, Harry loved the place. He never wanted to leave. 

Especially with what he had to go back to. 

Harry sighed, following Ron down the steps and towards the carriages that would wheel them off towards the train. 

He trailed slightly behind the other two, a little glum for a lot of reasons. Hermione was arguing with Ron over- something, he didn’t know, and he tried to smile at that. Bless them, they never changed, did they. Even if the world fell apart on him, he would always have them. Even after his and Ron’s fight, even after the long summers with little word from Hermione, they would stay friends. Always. 

He was awoken from his thoughts again as someone charged down the stairs behind him, calling his name. 

“Potter! Wait! Goddamn you, don’t make me run!”

In shock, Harry turned around to see Pansy Parkinson chasing after him. 

She reached him on the cobblestone ground, panting and heaving into her legs, bent over as she tried to catch her breath. 

“God… dammit, Potter…” she gasped, wiping her forehead. “You never fucking listen when someone calls your name.”

Harry cringed a little. “Sorry. A bit lost in the clouds today.”

She shot him a glare from beneath her bangs. 

“No shit.”

He tugged awkwardly on his suitcase, wondering what this was all about. She wanted something from him, right? More than just this?

Oh, Harry was no good at figuring out what people wanted from him. 

Taking a deep breath, Pansy straightened back up and fluffed her skirt. 

“Alright, alright. I’m fine.” 

She turned to him, brows drew and eyes fierce. Harry swallowed.

“Here.”

She shoved something at him, and it took him a second to register what it was. 

“Is this… a letter? Couldn’t you have just sent an owl?”

Pansy scowled quite frighteningly. “It’s not from me, dumbass! It’s from Draco! Ask  _ him  _ why he uses his friends like owls, I don’t fucking know!”

Harry tentatively took the parchment, and Pansy whipped her hand back immediately and brushed it on her shirt, though he suspected that was just for show. 

Harry gave the letter an inquisitive look.

“What am I to do with this?”

“Read it, burn it, I don’t care. It’s none of  _ my  _ business. I’m just the goddamned owl.” 

She made to stomp off when she turned and gave him a side-eye. 

“Just so you know, I think Draco should hate you for what happened, even if it wasn’t your fault.  _ I  _ certainly hate you. But-” and she hesitated, expression softening for a second. “I also appreciate what you did. Some of it, at least.”

And then she was back up the stairs and gone. 

Harry watched where she had been for a bit before Hermione called for him.

Stuffing the letter in his pocket, he dashed off, following after his two best friends. 

They got a good spot on the train, all by themselves, and settled in for the long ride. 

Harry sat in one of the window seats, thumb worrying over the smooth paper in his pocket as his forehead pressed into the cool glass. 

Ron and Hermione, sensing he wasn’t in the mood to talk, played games of cards and hand games that were too complicated for Harry to follow, as he contemplated the letter. 

The train started up, slowly chugging along, and Harry pulled back a little, not wanting his head to thud against the widow with each roll of the wheels. 

Instead, he opened it, sticking his head out and letting the wind whip against his face, battering all his thoughts away. 

He closed his eyes and breathed in. It was nice. 

He took out the letter.

_ Dear Potter, _

_ I suppose I ought to tell you the spell is broken. I-  _

“Harry? What’s that?”

Harry stared hard at the letter, not making out any more words. 

“Nothing.” He said thickly, and he let go of the letter. 

The wind stole it in an instant, whisking it away into the Scottish sky, taking it and Draco, Malfoy, far far from his mind. 

He turned to his friends, mustering up a smile. 

“Can I play?”

They played games and ate sweets, and when they got to the station, Molly kissed him on his cheek right in front of the Durselys, as a reminder someone out there loved him, and cared what happened to him. 

And as he rode back in the car, cramped against Dudley’s side and hot in the back where no air could reach, he pushed all manner of the blond’s from his mind, and relaxed against the cracked leather. 

He did not know what summer would bring, or the next school year, or anything after that. He did not know what would happen with Malfoy, or Voldemort, or even the Durselys. 

But he knew he was tired. And he was afraid. 

And he wanted a little peace in his life. 

So he let his head fall back, and closed his eyes, and listened to the boring talk show on the radio. 

He could do this. This moment, this second right here. He could do it. 

And he could be content. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No fluff, but I think that's alright. Harry's gonna need some time to sort himself out, and lord knows Draco certainly does.   
Also, wonder what was in that letter. a confession maybe? guess we'll never know ;(


End file.
